


Snakebite Heart, Bubblegum Smile

by galaxyjuns (woojaes)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cigarettes, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Minor Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Miscommunication, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woojaes/pseuds/galaxyjuns
Summary: "I've wanted to kiss you since we were sixteen, actually."And Renjun would blame it on the adrenaline later, the same kind of excitement as riding a rollercoaster or watching a scary movie–dangerous and risky, but in a good way. But then Donghyuck dropped his cigarette without a word, stepped on it with thick leather boots to extinguish the flame and answered in the same low volume, hidden by the night: "then do it."
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 20
Kudos: 112





	Snakebite Heart, Bubblegum Smile

**Author's Note:**

> please ignore any inaccuracies. i'm not a musician nor have i ever been one, but i tried to do adequate research so sorry if you spot any mistakes! thanks to piper for beta reading for me. <3
> 
> title from [this song](https://open.spotify.com/track/2WO1QXoR1o0R1rYKAxF7Ya?si=nwXC3iHkSliCGjrLCwHWLw).
> 
> i also made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76tq2RIpVAEwxSeeeZmpSd), i listened to this a lot while i wrote this. 
> 
> enjoy!

Renjun remembered the exact moment he fell in love with Donghyuck.

Three days into the summer vacation before junior year, they stood in a circle with Jeno and Jaemin in Donghyuck's mom's garage. In front of them, their instruments. Each of them had agreed to come to an "audition" (which would probably have been the case, except only the three of them actually showed up) because Donghyuck wanted to start a band. He advertised the opportunity at every possible venue, including school billboards, Craigslist and spam emails, and somehow the three of them were still the only people to apply for the position.

Renjun didn't expect to show up to find a fully functioning drum kit already assembled right there in the garage, but he wasn't about to complain. He grabbed his sticks from his dad's van (waiting outside Donghyuck's house just in case the advert turned out to be a scam), brought them back to the kit and sat on the stool. It was a little high for his liking and the kit itself had seen better days, but it was perfectly put together and obviously well-used. Renjun came prepared with a cover of some Blink 182 song he learned a few years ago, an easy song that he knew by heart, and when he finished, Jaemin, Jeno and Donghyuck all gave him an unenthusiastic applause. 

Jeno went next. He stood in the centre of the room with the bass strap draped over his shoulders, fingers hovering over the strings, and began to play the chords of a song Renjun didn't know. He played flawlessly, but there was only so far the sound could travel in the tiny garage, so it wasn't quite as impressive as it looked. The three onlookers clapped anyway.

Then came Jaemin. His teal Fender Telecaster was a little worse for wear, probably a hand-me-down from some older family member, but it played just the same. He plugged it into the amp and strummed a few stray notes before launching into a full rendition of a Queen classic (minus the solo) and even Renjun had to admit that he certainly played better than anyone thought he could, and the instrument itself didn't seem quite so tired afterwards. 

The entire time Jaemin played, Donghyuck's eyes were locked on him like a singular spotlight. Renjun knew this because he spent the entire time with his eyes on Donghyuck. He was nothing special, not really known at school aside from the occasional prank or random spurt of teenage delinquency and before this day, he and Donghyuck had spoken no more than six words to each other since they started. And yet, and yet, here they all stood in a circle in Donghyuck's mom's dingy garage with shitty natural light and even shittier artificial ones, watching as he too decided to audition and launch into a guitar and vocal cover of Smooth Criminal. 

With his eyes on Donghyuck, Renjun was able to catch every change of expression, every show of emotion that flitted across his face. He saw Donghyuck shine right in that moment. Like he said, he wasn't special; on a good day he was extraordinarily average, but as he began to sing his motives for wanting to start this became quite clear. 

It was then, watching Donghyuck sing beautifully to the three of them, watching him fiddle with the tuning keys of his guitar while he looked at them expectantly when he was done, admiring his unrivalled smile when the three of them clapped at the end the performance, that Renjun knew. He wore comfortable clothes and thread-bare sneakers, an unflattering haircut and braces on his front teeth, but Donghyuck’s ability to completely capture his attention was unreal. If there was any doubt in Renjun's mind about how good of a front man he would be for this band, it melted away very quickly.

At the end of the audition, Donghyuck asked each of them in turn if they wanted to be in the band. All three of them gave yes as an answer in varying degrees of enthusiasm. They would iron out the kinks later, try to settle into a style and genre that fit, find their sound, but for now, it was okay. Their band was born.

  
  
  


As far as high school bands go, theirs was no different. After weeks of meeting up together after school just to jam to songs they already knew individually, their first official cover as Sunsets in Phoenix – their band name now, after much deliberation – was a rendition of Beverly Hills by Weezer, chosen specifically for the lyrics because Donghyuck liked to imagine they'd be big one day. It was a dream they all shared; no high school band ever formed hoping to disband before it was over, but Renjun knew it was naive to think it would be _easy._ They practiced the song for far longer than strictly necessary – Jeno and Renjun had their parts memorised within days, but the problem was with Jaemin and Donghyuck, both of whom insisted _they_ should be the one to take the guitar solo in the bridge, despite Donghyuck being happy to be rhythm guitarist in every other song they played so far. 

Renjun quickly learned that Donghyuck was a great musician, skilled in both guitar and keyboard with the vocals of an angel, an ear for mistakes and a perfectionist attitude, but he was also stubborn beyond help. Unless Donghyuck got what he wanted, he was petty and argumentative, and too many times he stormed out of the garage taking his guitar with him, leaving Renjun and Jeno sighing and rubbing at their temples. 

"Fuck this!" Renjun shouted halfway through another of Jaemin and Donghyuck's arguments. He stood and pointed his sticks at both of them individually. "Please will you both shut the fuck up for _one_ second."

They both stopped and stared at him with wide eyes. Jeno stood somewhere in the corner with his hands on his amp, pretending to fix it but Renjun knew he was listening in. 

"Jaemin, take the solo." 

Before Donghyuck could protest, which he went to, Renjun stepped out from behind his kit and pointed his sticks directly at him. "You are our rhythm guitarist, Donghyuck. We all agreed that at the audition. You don't get to change that just because you want this solo. If you wanted to have all the attention you shouldn't have asked for a second guitarist."

His expression faltered, as if he couldn't believe someone other than Jaemin was arguing with him.

"You need to stop and let Jaemin have this part. It's not fair to him."

The room fell completely silent, a ticking clock above the garage door the only sound. Even Jeno had stopped fiddling and sat on top of his amp now, though he looked away to avoid confrontation.

"Fine," Donghyuck said after a while. Renjun visibly relaxed. "Fine. Jaemin, it's yours. Let's practice once more."

They didn't really need to practice anymore (at this point, Renjun had started dreaming about the song and if he heard it any more times he was going to combust) but it diffused the tension and ended with everyone relieved they had finally finished it, and surprisingly, Donghyuck patted Jaemin on the back and congratulated him for a successful solo. 

Donghyuck stopped trying to challenge his position in the band and gave the solos to Jaemin without question. Now that he knew Renjun wasn't afraid to stand up to him, he definitely didn't push his luck anymore and being at practice with him became less of a chore and more of an enjoyment. Bringing his arrogance down a notch did wonders for band stability; for the first time since they formed, it was beginning to feel like friendship. 

  
  
  


It was fine performing covers that only their relatives heard, but when it came to making their own music they were seriously lacking in not only opportunities to write, but ability. The lyrics, quite possibly the easiest part of the process, would come last, but manifesting the creativity to write the melody was a more difficult feat. Renjun felt powerless; a song without drums didn't exist, but coming up with drum notes without a guitar hook or bass line was a near impossible task. The four of them met after school almost every day, sat in a circle with their instruments and stared at the floor, though try as they might the song did not write itself.

Donghyuck had the not-so niche idea to write the lyrics first and the three of them agreed because it was the only suggestion anyone had. But absolutely no one expected him to come to practice the next day with a notebook, filled with pages and pages of the most beautiful prose that any of them had ever read. Donghyuck was many things, sometimes not even good things, but in amongst those things he was also deep, sensitive and honest, and apparently an amazing story teller.

His lyrics waxed poetic about some unknown girl, comparing her to a sunset, galaxy and other pretty celestial events; Renjun felt the first tug of loneliness behind his heart as he read over Donghyuck's messy scrawl that absolutely did not do the words justice. 

"Who did you write it about?" Jaemin asked from somewhere over Renjun's shoulder. Jeno stood on his other side in silence.

Donghyuck turned unusually quiet, fiddling with the spare guitar pick on his mic stand. "Someone I once had a crush on, long time ago."

The three of them read the lyrics again. The nameless girl was made of outer space with a kiss the colour of constellations. Warmth swam in Renjun's veins, bleeding into every cell in his body and he nodded his head. "I love them, Donghyuck," he said, clearer than he intended.

Somewhere in the corners of Donghyuck's lips, a smile bloomed like a sunrise. "I was thinking we could have a guitar solo after the bridge? Drums and bass to start, a bit of my guitar, chorus, repeat, bridge, solo and finish." 

Donghyuck shifted his guitar to the front of him, put his fingers in place on the neck and strummed a basic rhythm on the strings, no more than four chords. It was the inspiration they needed; after the sound rang out in the garage, Renjun and Jeno shared a look as he wordlessly grabbed his bass and strummed a matching set of chords on his strings too. Watching Donghyuck's eyes light up, themselves made of outer space and shooting stars like the anonymous girl he wrote about, Renjun fell in love with him. It wasn't a spectacular event, a sudden realisation or a fireworks display, nothing like the movies or songs he heard from his childhood. Just a lingering thought in the back of his mind that he admired everything about him, even the parts everyone else found irritating. 

They finished the first demo of the song that night, staying later to perfect the solo before they parted ways way past curfew, and when Renjun returned home his limbs buzzed from overuse, heart aflame. 

  
  
  


The thing about high school, everyone says, is that it's the place you _find_ yourself. Anyone who wants to be someone plants the seeds in high school and the fruit of hard work grows the rest of your life. Renjun remembered reading this on a page of his yearbook on the last day of school, snorted at it, and buried it at the back of his closet when he got home. 

As a representative school band, despite playing songs the teachers hated and wearing clothes everyone disapproved of, Sunsets in Phoenix got a section just for them. The four of them posed with their instruments, though Renjun was only given the chance to hold his sticks because the yearbook budget wasn't high enough for a full page photo. Instead, they got the lower half of a split page, shared with the abstinence club towards the back of the book. 

Individually, they got their own photos. Puberty was kind to Donghyuck especially, and in the year and a half since the band was formed he had grown into himself. He lost the braces, grew taller, got a better haircut, developed a fashion sense beyond clothes that once made him invisible. The four of them weren't cool by any means or even well-known, but no longer were they at the bottom of the social hierarchy for being nobodies; by the end of senior year they at least had a small group of fans and a MySpace page with a couple hundred friends, and that was more than enough.

The problem with being labelled as a high school band, though, was the expectation to peak in high school and move onto pastures new at the end of it. A few days before graduation the four of them met in Donghyuck's mom's garage, like they did regularly. Only this time the atmosphere turned solemn, made worse by the broken grunge interior.

"What do we want to do?" Donghyuck asked. They hadn't brought instruments today; not having the distraction made things harder.

There was an ominous silence. The idea of continuing the band beyond school was terrifying. Until now it had been a pastime, a hobby, a way of making friends (and Renjun could say with certainty that the four of them had become close friends, in spite of their differences). Renjun was going to college, but the other three were not. Jaemin secured a job at his dad's company. Jeno had an internship waiting for him. Donghyuck just wanted to play music. The logistics of it, meeting up to practice and write, would be difficult.

But none of them anticipated when they started the band that it would come to this, with the band having an actual meaning and a purpose. 

"I love playing music," Jeno started. "I love playing music with you guys." 

Everyone waited for a 'but' that never came.

"My dad doesn't want me to continue," Jaemin said. "But I'm already working for him, I can do what I want."

Donghyuck nodded. Three pairs of eyes turned to Renjun.

"I'm going to college," he said. "I'll be busy, really busy." 

A silence. It strangled him. 

"But I'm not going away. I'm staying here, at home. I just really want to draw all day and play with you guys at night." 

They turned to look at Donghyuck, who sported a tiny smile himself. He shrugged his shoulders. "I was going solo if you guys weren't in, anyway. You all know I want to carry on." 

They left the garage that day the calmest they had felt in months, now that the heavy weight of disbandment didn't rest on their shoulders. The next time they practiced, the day after graduation, it was with a sense of freedom and accomplishment that they had broken all the rules of what a high school band should do, exceeded expectations and made promises they knew they would keep. 

To tomorrow, they said, and tomorrow came as a hurricane.

  
  
  


It wasn't easy. In fact, it was the hardest thing they had to do, balancing home and work lives with the band as well. Donghyuck was the only one putting 100% effort into the band and they all knew it, but each of them tried to avoid bringing up the topic and focused on what they _could_ do. They wrote songs in their spare time, learned their parts individually, recorded them on home computers when they could and Donghyuck produced the final thing as the only member with enough time to invest in it. It was tough; it was clear Donghyuck was getting frustrated with the lopsided effort.

By the end of the year, mid-December when Renjun's classes had finished for the semester and Jeno and Jaemin's workloads became more manageable, they'd produced three songs. Three meagre songs that didn't really sell their band in the best way, but three songs nonetheless. When they weren't writing or practicing or living their daily lives, Donghyuck was doing his best to promote them on every avenue. He emailed their demos to radio stations, agents, record labels, newspaper and magazine editors. Anything he could think of that might get them more listeners. Anyone who might give them a chance. 

It never worked, until the one time it did.

Three days before Christmas, Renjun borrowed his mom's car to go to the mall for last-minute gifts. He parked it just outside and left the engine and radio running while he made sure he had enough money for what he wanted to buy. And then he heard it; the strum of guitar notes and double-kick of bass drum and Donghyuck's vocals some twenty seconds in. The first song they ever wrote. Their best song, in Renjun's opinion. And now it was playing on the radio and thousands of other people would be listening to it right at this moment. 

Renjun gripped the steering wheel with force and stayed rooted to the spot in the driver's seat. The song was just over three minutes in length and it was over too soon, Jaemin's solo ringing in his ears after it ended. The DJ spoke highly of the song and recommended it for an indie music segment they had at the station. 

He couldn't pull his phone from his pocket and select the contact fast enough. Donghyuck answered lazily on the third ring.

"We just got played on the radio," he said without even a greeting.

Donghyuck went silent. For a second Renjun thought the line was broken until he heard Donghyuck's soft breathing. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he nervous-laughed. This was the first time their music was played out of their circle. Out of the internet. This was real. "We got recommended for an indie segment on 101.3. Donghyuck, I think you should call the station. I'll tell Jeno and Jaemin."

"Oh my god," he said. His voice was high pitched and muffled, like spoken into his hands out of disbelief. "This is huge." 

Renjun exhaled. "I know. What if– what if this is it?" 

The line went silent again. He spoke again after several seconds, "Renjun, we did it. We're doing it." 

Jeno and Jaemin had similar reactions. Jeno was finishing work, about to board the subway to come home but he missed it because the news froze him to the spot. Jaemin was at the park with his little sister, supervising her as she played while his parents worked their last shifts. He had to sit on a bench to stop his knees from giving way. 

The DJ wanted to feature them on an indie segment. Come to the studio, play a short setlist for a bit of money and exposure. It was an opportunity they couldn't turn down even if they wanted to. They weren't the only band invited; it was an indie festival of sorts, celebrating the best of local music on the radio. Just being considered for it was enough. Just playing their song was enough. Inviting them to perform was a bonus. 

College started again in the new year. Time that Renjun once spent on his assignments went to band practice instead. Jeno and Jaemin called in sick at work repeatedly. Donghyuck begged his parents not to charge him rent until at least the date of the performance with the promise that, if nothing came of it, he would get a job and contribute. 

But of course the performance went smoothly. They practiced for weeks for the five minute segment they were given. Enough for a song and a half. They chose their first and something a little bit more recent, feeling euphoric as Donghyuck introduced them at the end of their time slot. 

None of them could have predicted the storm that would follow.

  
  
  


Numbers on their MySpace page shot up rapidly in the two weeks after their performance. In those two weeks Renjun worked on getting his grades back up after missing almost a month of classes and ignoring his assignments, Donghyuck applied for local retail jobs to pay back his parents, and Jeno and Jaemin both worked on regaining their professional reputation in their respective workplaces. 

Late in April, a month or so after the performance, the paycheck arrived. It wasn't a great amount of money, and the split into four made each earning quite small – but it was the first time the band ever made them any money for all the work they put into it. The day the check arrived, Donghyuck called an emergency meeting.

"I got us a gig," he said as the four of them gathered in his bedroom instead of the garage. "In a bar in the city. It's in two weeks as a last minute because they had a cancellation. They wanted an answer today, so I said yes. So I hope you can make it."

Renjun blinked. The room fell silent and from the looks on Jaemin and Jeno's faces, they were equally as surprised by the news as Renjun was.

"I have a project due in four weeks," Renjun started. "The final one of my semester. Then I have an exam to study for."

Jeno looked guilty. "I finally got my boss to trust me again after I skipped work so much last month. The internship… it means a lot to me. I don't want to mess it up."

And Jaemin fiddled with his hands. "My dad threatened to kick me out. He said if I didn't start taking my job seriously he wouldn't support me living there anymore. I don't have the money to move out on my own… I can't get on his bad side again."

Tension thick, Donghyuck's eyes flitted from each boy to the next while his eyebrows turned down into a frown. Renjun held his breath. 

"Why am I the only one who cares about this band anymore?" He asked, voice light, like the calm before a tornado. Renjun shared a look with Jeno and Jaemin; Donghyuck's accusations had bruised them too.

"Donghyuck," Renjun said. "We all gave up parts of our lives for this band the last two months. I almost failed a class. I submitted an assignment late because I missed the deadline because I was _here_ . _With you._ "

"And I'm giving up part of my life too!"

Renjun's fingers twitched. He curled his hands into fists to stop himself doing something he would regret. 

"What are you giving up? A few hours of work from that shitty supermarket you work at four days a week? Precious time that could be spent at home living rent free doing nothing else with your life?" 

Donghyuck fell silent. The words had clearly stung.

"You have no fucking clue–"

"Then enlighten me, Donghyuck," he spat. "You can't expect us to drop our lives for a band. All of us have something to work towards, all of us except _you._ " 

Jeno and Jaemin stared at the floor. Their silence was loud and clear.

"And you all feel like I'm asking too much of you? Fuck commitment, right?" 

Jaemin finally lifted his head. "We want this just as much as you do, Donghyuck–" 

"No you don't. I'm trying to give us a future."

Renjun scoffed and shook his head, kicked off from the desk chair he sat in and stood up. "Then I'm done, I don't want this. If you can't respect that my future is different from yours then you don't get to play a part in it."

"Renjun–" Jeno tried to say.

"No, I mean it. Fuck you, Donghyuck. I'm stressed enough as it is without rehearsals every night that I don't have time for. If you guys want to do the show, fine, but you'll have to find a new drummer."

And then Renjun pushed open Donghyuck's bedroom door and walked down the stairs and out of the house completely. It should have felt more final than it did, especially as Renjun got in his mom's car and started the engine and he looked up at the window just in time to see Jeno giving him a sad smile before he drove away. It should have felt final, especially as he ignored their phone calls and voicemails and focused on his project artwork instead, but eventually he got sick of the design, shoved it from his workstation to the floor and took out his sketchbook, opened to a fresh page, and let his right hand do the talking for him.

He didn't think, just let the pencil glide over the paper in whatever image his brain was constructing, but as he stopped to massage out a hand cramp he looked at the image in front of him. The picture was incomplete but still obvious what it was: two hands, joined and held like lovers. As he looked at it, really looked at it, he sighed and rested his forehead on the page. The hands were anonymous, no clear indication of identity, gender, age or anything else but he knew they were lovers, and in his mind he imagined they were Donghyuck and himself even if it was wrong.

Even when Donghyuck was an asshole with a superiority complex (which Renjun overlooked most of the time because Donghyuck glowed like the sun and he was hypnotised) he adored him, completely. Even when his work ethic was questioned and the band had to take a back seat, he still adored Donghyuck and the way he cared about their success as _four_. Without him the band wouldn't exist, and if the band had any other frontman, Renjun would have left already. No one could make any environment as engaging as Donghyuck. 

He’d fucked up. Well, Donghyuck did too – by expecting lives to be put on hold, but implying that he was going to leave probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. And Jeno and Jaemin stayed at the house, so clearly they had more guts. 

He never would've left if Donghyuck gave them the choice. If Donghyuck didn't pretend they hadn't already sacrificed so much for him. But Renjun could be just as stubborn as him; he wasn't going to apologise first, not when it was Donghyuck's attitude that had made him walk out in the first place.

So he drew the rest of the joined hands. He drew the ring Donghyuck always wore on his right middle finger, a silver band with a skull engraved in black rock on top of it. On the other fingers, he drew nothing. Renjun didn't wear rings.

  
  
  


Donghyuck didn't air his apologies until two days before the scheduled gig which he hadn't cancelled. In the back of his mind Renjun knew Donghyuck wouldn't give up so easily; Jaemin had sent him various texts with wording similar to "Donghyuck says he's sorry" to which Renjun replied "then he can tell me himself" in not unfriendly terms. 

If Renjun was going to apologise back to him, he was going to make him work for it. Put the effort in. Donghyuck was quite easy to mold that way. 

So on an evening in early-May, late enough that the porch light was on when Renjun answered the door, Donghyuck knocked to apologise. He'd dragged Jaemin and Jeno there too for moral support, though they stood behind him with bored expressions on their faces. 

"What do you want?" Renjun asked. He wasn't really that mad at him anymore, not like he was last week, but Renjun was an expert at playing people at their own games. 

Donghyuck looked up and fiddled with the cuffs of his black leather jacket. It appeared he was struggling to say it, and Renjun revelled in every moment of it.

"I'm sorry."

Renjun folded his arms. 

"Sorry for implying you don't care about this band. I shouldn't have questioned your work ethic."

Renjun was silent for a few moments then shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean what I said."

Donghyuck hesitated. "I understand if you really can't do the performance, I'll cancel it if you can't, but if there's any tiny chance you can I would really like you there."

Renjun squinted and leaned against the doorframe. "How long is our segment?"

"Fifteen minutes. I thought we could play a mix of different songs…"

Two minutes. Renjun stood in the doorway and thought for two whole minutes about his answer. It wasn't like he didn't want to – God, teenager Renjun wanted nothing more than to perform for an audience of eager fans, have his chance in the spotlight. All four of them wanted that and it was no secret. But adult Renjun had other plans, a thousand other little responsibilities that had to take centre stage. 

"I'll do it," he said, holding out his finger. Donghyuck's shoulders visibly relaxed. "On the condition that you _ask_ next time before booking gigs last minute."

Donghyuck nodded and with it, his face split into a beautiful, awed grin. Renjun stared at it for longer than he should have; in his defense, that grin lit up the plains of his face, like hanging Christmas lights on a tree to make it sparkle. Donghyuck was pretty all the time (even back when he was in school, when the only people that knew he existed were the four of them) but especially so when he smiled.

In the two minutes it took for Renjun to make his decision and for Donghyuck to agree to his part of the deal, he caught the tail-end of a look shared between Jeno and Jaemin at the back. Something in their eyes gave away Renjun's secret, knowing, and he sent back a frantic look of his own, begging them not to say anything. 

Donghyuck was none-the-wiser, exactly like Renjun wanted him to be. For now, his secret was safe. 

  
  
  


"Hello everyone," Donghyuck spoke into his mic. His voice was calm, not a hint of nerves in sight. Renjun's legs shook under the intense wave of heat from the spotlights and he picked at the metal edge of his snare while Donghyuck introduced them, blood replaced with adrenaline in his veins. "I'm Donghyuck, this is Jaemin, Jeno and Renjun, we're called Sunsets in Phoenix."

People in the audience gave brief, lone cheers. Donghyuck spun on his feet to face Renjun, flashed him a tiny, encouraging smile, and Renjun picked his sticks and held them up, smacking them together twice, thrice, four times to count down.

As the guitar and bass joined, along with Donghyuck's vocals as the song started, Renjun's nerves melted away like ice. He had the advantage of being able to hide behind his drums at the back of the stage out of view; he could only imagine how Jeno was feeling right now, the most nervous of their whole group, being close to the front and exposed to prying eyes. And yet, from where Renjun sat, he caught sight of Jeno's bright toothy smile from behind. Even if he was anxious, he hid it well. This was the happiest he'd ever seen him.

At Jaemin's solo part he had his back to Renjun as expected, but when it finished he turned his head just slightly and he too held a radiant smile, made even prettier by the sweat gathering on his forehead.

And Donghyuck. Well, he was _Donghyuck_. Renjun frequently lost his train of thought when he looked at him, even when he wasn't doing this, even when he was just laying on his bed, or throwing his controller to the floor because he was a sore loser and Renjun just beat him at Mario Kart, or concentrating on something so his eyebrows came together in a frown. He was beautiful then without even trying. Now, dressed to kill with a seductive grace only he could muster, the small audience wrapped like a helter-skelter around his little finger, he was something else. 

Renjun had many revelations watching Donghyuck own the stage over the years, each one more intense than the last. And as they got older, his feelings grew to the point that he had to look away and concentrate; one accident could throw off the whole beat and the rest of the song and Renjun was too much of a professional to let that happen. 

But tonight, in the final chorus of the first song when Donghyuck sang about wanting another mysterious girl to be his, he turned slightly. Just enough to make eyes. Just enough for Renjun to assume he was singing directly to him. 

Donghyuck said when he presented the lyrics that he wasn't writing about anyone specifically, just the feelings of wanting someone he couldn't have. Renjun wasn't naive enough to think that every song he wrote was a message, but this one he could relate to. He’d loved Donghyuck since their school days, no matter how wrong it was. He was entirely unattainable. An enigma. A daydream. A storm Renjun wanted to chase. 

The first song ended, and after a short pause they began the second. The heat from the spotlights seeped through Renjun's clothes right to his skin and he wiped sweat from his forehead with his arm. Before Donghyuck sang, during the instrumental intro, he turned on his heels with his guitar strapped over his torso and fingers on the strings, stood right in the centre of the stage and _glowed._ Yellow light from above created a halo around his whole form, making everything else pale in comparison.

For a second, Renjun forgot the audience, the other members, the music, the bar staff across the room. His hands and feet played by muscle memory alone. 

And then he was back to facing the audience, commanding them with his body and words, but Renjun was under his spell too. He reminded himself to concentrate before it was too late and, thankfully, Donghyuck didn't try any more distractions for the rest of the set. They finished all four songs on a high (and hearing a hundred people cheering for them was a thrill he never thought he could get used to). But after they packed away their equipment and it was safely locked away inside Renjun's dad's van that he borrowed just for this performance, after Jeno and Jaemin got a lift home together because they lived the closest, after Renjun and Donghyuck were alone together outside, something in the air shifted.

Donghyuck leaned against the driver's side door, cigarette perched between two fingers, almost touching his lips but not quite. In the heat he’d removed his jacket, and it lay discarded on the passenger seat inside. Renjun stood next to him, a warm silence between them. Some other local band played inside though the sound of their music was muffled by the distance and the walls. 

"You know," Renjun began, and he wasn't sure if it was the May heat getting to his head or the rush that made him speak. "You looked beautiful tonight."

Donghyuck inhaled and blew smoke from his lips with a smile. "You too," he said. 

"I've always admired you," Renjun continued before he could stop himself.

At this Donghyuck's eyebrow quirked and he flicked ash from the flame of the cigarette. Little droplets fell to the ground slowly. "Always? We argue all the time."

"Everyone fights. Doesn't mean I don't." 

Donghyuck fell silent, as if thinking heavily about something. More ash fell to the ground. Another inhale.

Halfway through blowing out more smoke, Donghyuck shifted closer to Renjun and before he could think rationally, before he could convince himself not to go through with this terrible idea, he turned to face Donghyuck, nose to nose with their proximity, and spoke in a voice so soft it was barely audible over the sound of the music inside. "I've wanted to kiss you since we were sixteen, actually." 

And Renjun would blame it on the adrenaline later, the same kind of excitement as riding a rollercoaster or watching a scary movie–dangerous and risky, but in a good way. But then Donghyuck dropped his cigarette without a word, stepped on it with thick leather boots to extinguish the flame and answered in the same low volume, hidden by the night: "then do it."

Donghyuck tasted like smoke, sweat, skin and sugar all at once, the most curious mix distinct to him. Renjun had a few kisses in 19 years (boys, girls, some enjoyable, some terrible) but never had a kiss perplexed him as much as Donghyuck's. It both warmed him up and cooled him down, heartbeat erratic in his chest and cold sweat on his palms, and when they parted Renjun exhaled heavily, opened the driver's door now that Donghyuck was no longer leaning on it, and slipped inside, stomach filled with post-gig fire, post-kiss butterflies, and the sinking dread that he'd just kissed his bandmate. His colleague. _His best friend._

The drive home was silent, not even cured by the radio playing softly from the van speakers. When Renjun parked in front of Donghyuck's house, he went to the back of the van and collected his guitar and amp and took them inside the garage, and Renjun drove off with nothing but a wave. How else are you supposed to act around the best friend you've just confessed to and kissed? 

At his own house, he parked the van inside the garage and left his disassembled drum kit there, too distracted to take it up to his bedroom where it normally belonged. Instead he laid down in bed fully clothed, smelling like the cologne he wore before they performed, sweat from the stage, and smoke from Donghyuck. Even when he showered and changed clothes and the smoke smell disappeared, his lips still tingled late into the night, like his body knew he wasn't ready to forget. Not yet.

  
  
  


On the night of Donghyuck's 19th birthday, everything changed. He and Renjun had spent the last month dancing around each other, too scared to bring up the kiss while Jeno and Jaemin gave them the time and space to figure things out on their own. Both of them refused to address it, putting it down to a post-gig buzz instead, but at every practice and rehearsal since then Renjun would lift his head and would catch Donghyuck staring at him too; something short and soft, sealed with a smile before both of them would look away.

An agent got in touch with them. They were at the show in the bar and liked it. One month later, after listening to their demos online, they wrote an email to Donghyuck wanting to meet to discuss signing to the label. 

He broke the news to them on his birthday, gathered in Donghyuck's living room with a spread of pizzas in front of them. His mom had gone away for the night so the four of them had the house to themselves. Renjun was halfway into a slice of pepperoni when Donghyuck paused the movie they were watching and the atmosphere became thick with curiosity. 

"Today," he said. He fiddled with the discarded crust of a slice he already finished. "I got an email from an A&R guy in Tech Records. He was at the show in the bar. He watched our set and thought we were good. He also listened to our songs online."

The three of them held their breaths. Tension thick in the air, able to be cut with a knife. 

"He wants to meet with us to discuss signing. They want to give us a record deal." 

Renjun dropped the pizza slice to his plate in shock, melted cheese sticking to the ceramic. Jeno and Jaemin both gasped, but were otherwise silent.

"So I said okay to meeting him. We have to go to their offices, in the city. Next Wednesday."

In the month since the show, Renjun finished his first year of college. He handed in his art project three hours before the deadline and studied for his exam the morning before, but it was done. Now he had spare time, but delivered pizzas for extra money on weekends. 

Suddenly, this wasn't just a hobby. A record deal was a shared dream, something they all wanted even if it seemed unrealistic to cling onto, but the possibility of this becoming more than that terrified them all to the bone.

"Are you serious?" Jaemin said. He looked like he wanted to vomit or cry, or perhaps both.

"A hundred percent," Donghyuck confirmed, looking at each member in turn. "I think we should go." 

All four nodded. Jeno and Jaemin would make excuses at work. Renjun would beg his mom to use her car. But they would go; it would be stupid not to. 

Later that same night, after they talked a lot about their goals and dreams, after the movie ended, after Jeno and Jaemin fell asleep together on the couch, Renjun and Donghyuck sat in the thin darkness of the living room, light coming only from a street lamp outside, streaming through the closed curtains.

Donghyuck rested his head on Renjun's shoulder, breathing soft. Slow. 

"I'm glad we're doing this together," he said, voice full of pure sunlight even in the midnight hours. It made Renjun smile and tilt his own head, resting it atop Donghyuck's. 

"Me too," he whispered, a rare moment of affection.

They fell silent again, warmth from the early June heat sticking their clothes to their skin, and their skin to each other. Apart from gentle breathing from Jeno and Jaemin just across the room and the hum of appliances in the kitchen behind them, the room fell silent too. Comfortable and content.

Donghyuck's breathing slowed so much and he was silent for so long that Renjun assumed he fell asleep, so it surprised him when his voice whispered close to his ear. "Renjun?"

"Yeah?" he whispered back.

A thick pause. 

"Can I kiss you again?"

Renjun's shaky exhale was loud compared to everything else. They hadn't dared talk about this boundary since the first time, but many times Renjun let himself get lost in his imagination even if he felt bad about it afterwards. The first time it was Renjun taking the plunge, running towards the tornado. Now Donghyuck was asking permission to run in after him, headfirst into the unknown.

He couldn't get his mouth to work. Instead he nodded his head once. 

This kiss was different. The first had been a spur of the moment, the result of fifteen minutes of high energy, over within seconds. This kiss, they took their time.

Donghyuck didn't taste of smoke this time, or sweat. He vowed to give up earlier this week but Renjun caught him hiding a cigarette packet in his pocket when they arrived at his house hours before. No, this time Donghyuck tasted of _himself_ –sweet, the sweetest kiss Renjun ever had.

Forgoing self control, or perhaps indulging in it, Renjun slid onto Donghyuck's lap with his knees on either side of his thighs. His hands, one of them at least, cupped his cheek while the other rested on a piece of skin that peeked out from under Donghyuck's shirt where it had ridden up in the change of position. Renjun placed his hand there and felt nothing but heat, vibrant sunshine under his skin.

At some point, that same hand ended up under his shirt instead, but Renjun hadn't been paying attention. One of Donghyuck's hands ended up on his thigh, slight pressure where he squeezed, thumb tracing the inner seam of his jeans.

Donghyuck kissed just like he performed. A perfectionist, prowess as a leader and agent provocateur. And he made Renjun weak, in the best way possible.

With breaths mingling, Renjun slid back enough on his lap to grasp the hem of Donghyuck's shirt and lift it up over his head after their lips parted too. And as Renjun rested his hands somewhere on Donghyuck's bare chest and Donghyuck's hands moved up to tug on the end of his shirt too, lips connected once again to kiss until they ran out of breath, someone stirred. Jeno or Jaemin, one of them coughed. Rolled over. And Renjun and Donghyuck shot apart like the proximity suddenly burned.

Renjun looked at Donghyuck, who looked at him too. Still the two other boys in the room remained sleeping, but it was too risky to continue. Not with either of them able to wake up at any minute. Not with so many unanswered questions hanging between them.

"Shit," Renjun murmured, voice shaking. Donghyuck nodded, though Renjun had no idea what he was agreeing with.

"We," he cleared his throat. "We should sleep." 

Renjun nodded. Suddenly sleeping next to him in sleeping bags on the floor felt suffocating, now the temperature increased beyond what was comfortable. They changed clothes at opposite ends of the room with backs to each other, cheeks rosy. Renjun turned on his side away from Donghyuck the second he zipped the sleeping bag up to his chin. The fabric was much too padded for an early summer night like this one, but he needed the distraction, lest he be tempted to slide in behind Donghyuck and shield him with his arms instead.

"Goodnight," Donghyuck's voice sounded far, like he too faced away on his side. 

"Goodnight," Renjun said in return. He managed to control his voice enough not to stutter, but it took a long time for his body to calm down, heart racing and skin tingling where Donghyuck's hands had been.

  
  
  


Being signed was a lot like not being signed. They hired a manager to organise most things for them (a guy called Mark, not much older than them, who responded to an ad they placed on the internet and who they interviewed extensively after) but mostly everything stayed the same. 

After contract negotiations when his signature was on the dotted line, Renjun told his parents he wasn't going back for his second year of college to focus on the band full time. Jaemin and Jeno did the same and quit their jobs. They were all ready to put 100% effort in, like they should have done the first time. 

Their label gave them a budget for an album. Renjun would help design the album artwork so he could still do what he loved. It was a win-win, but the prospect made him nervous; Renjun was not shy about his art – far from it, actually – but pressure was an unwelcome enemy, and the thought of thousands of people scrutinising his creation didn't quite fit well with him. 

Still. They were going to make an _album_.

With Mark's help, they were played on the radio. A lot. On Renjun's last shift at the pizza restaurant, he went in briefly to collect more orders, and one of their songs had been playing on the overhead speakers. He also went to Donghyuck's grocery store to keep him company on his last night shift and they sat together in silence, just listening as another was played by the late night DJ, Donghyuck behind the register while Renjun sat on the counter. 

They still didn't address the kisses, nor the heated touches. Especially not those. Both times they had crossed the line were under the cover of darkness, with only the night sky or a street lamp as witnesses. In the grocery store with white artificial lights and CCTV, they were not so hidden. It was dangerous. 

But Renjun knew there was an electricity between them now. Times they were alone together had lingering eyes, and a magnetic tension that was obvious even when they were joined by other people. Jeno and Jaemin noticed too, of course, but chose not to say anything. Whatever this _thing_ was between Renjun and Donghyuck, it felt like thunder and lightning after a heat wave and warm summer rain.

  
  
  
  


With Mark's continued investment and royalties from radio plays, they rented an isolated cabin in the mountains for an indefinite period of time to write their album. A mutual decision between all four of them to avoid distractions, but with significant risk: living on top of each other for the first time because the money only stretched as far as two bedrooms. 

Sleeping arrangements were decided with a game of rock paper scissors. In the bigger room, Renjun, Jaemin and Jeno. In the smaller room, Donghyuck and Mark. Renjun was both disappointed and relieved that he wasn't sharing with Donghyuck. 

It was small, smaller than they all expected, far too small to be their living space for x amount of months. But it would have to do. In the living room, there was a single beaten up couch, an old TV, a coffee table with stains. It had a basic kitchen, one shared bathroom with one shower. A pleasant surprise was the outside space. The cabin was fenced in but inside the fence was a pool, and five minutes of walking lead to a large reservoir, shielded by thick trees. To their collective horror, each room had only two big beds. Seeing that they would've had to sleep _together_ made Renjun really glad he wasn't sharing with Donghyuck. He knew in that scenario neither of them would be able to resist temptation. 

But Renjun was determined; he was here to work. Donghyuck was distracting, but he wouldn't let him invade his head. Or his bed, for that matter. 

As with all promises, though, it was quickly broken. 

It had been easy at first. Living together meant respecting belongings and personal space, which, for several weeks, went really well. No one wanted to be the first to overstep. Every interaction came with a signature customer-service smile.

Mid-July, some four weeks after they arrived, resistance began to crumble. Living in the cabin sparked creativity like they hoped it would, and most days were spent holed up inside while the sun burned above them. Renjun had been taking both sketchbook and notebook to the reservoir at least three times a week in hopes of either writing lyrics or drawing something, and this particular Wednesday afternoon was no different. He sat on the bank with his feet inside the cool water, scribbling lyrics to a guitar and bass melody he heard before he walked here.

Renjun's craft wasn't writing, not really. The ease of a pencil gave him much more freedom, but Renjun's head had been filled with daydreams of Donghyuck lately (but he couldn't even remember a time when it hadn't). Daydreams about him, his lips, their shared kisses in the dark. So he wrote about them. About turning off the lights and turning on the charm.

Donghyuck snuck up on him as he was quietly singing to himself and clapped when he was done, startling him out of his skin.

"I wouldn't have you pegged as a lyricist," Donghyuck smiled, sliding down next to him with his feet in the water too. 

"I'm not," he scratched his chin and put his notebook down on the grass. "It still needs work, it's just a chorus."

Donghyuck picked up the book and read it, and put it down again within moments. "They're good, teach me the melody later. I'll sing it."

Suddenly Donghyuck was there, up down and over him and Renjun held his breath. It was like he knew that a single sip would leave him intoxicated and he revelled and basked in that fact.

"Can I kiss you again?" His voice was clear now with the prospect that they could do this undisturbed for the first time. All of Renjun's promises were broken right there on the tip of his tongue.

"I wrote about kissing you in the dark and now you want to kiss me in daylight?" 

Donghyuck laughed softly. Renjun would be lying if he said his lips didn't quirk up into a small smile of their own accord hearing the sound of it. "Something like that."

Instead of answering with words or nods, he leaned in and pressed his own lips to Donghyuck's waiting ones, softer and sweeter than ever. And Donghyuck drew him closer with eager hands circling his waist and holding him still.

Their third kiss was different to the first and the second. That's the thing with Donghyuck's kisses–they were all parts of him he chose to expose at different moments, each carrying a different weight. A rushed touch of lips outside a stuffy bar was different to pliant tongues celebrating good news; and that was different to this, flirtatious teasing in the silence of nature. 

So this time, as Donghyuck's wandering hands slid under his shirt and peeled it up, over his head and away from his skin, Renjun was in no hurry for this to end. They were finally, completely, blissfully alone together for the first time, away from any interruption as the two other band members and their manager perfected songs inside the cabin, unaware their drummer and frontman were even gone.

So this time, as Renjun's hands swiftly unbuckled Donghyuck's belt and he shimmied out of his jeans and Renjun put his hands back on him, everywhere and anywhere he could touch, he swallowed his doubts and insecurities, kicked away the conscience on his shoulder and sank into the water–and Donghyuck followed him willingly.

  
  
  


Taking the plunge, quite literally, was nothing like jumping into ice water like Renjun predicted. Instead it was like lowering himself into sun-soaked sea on a beach, a refreshing splash in midsummer heat. Kissing Donghyuck, and more, felt like a short rain shower bringing a rainbow. And Renjun was already running out into it, no shoes or umbrella, ready to dance.

They still didn't talk about their boundaries. The extent of their activities. Emotional involvement. And it was dangerous, of course, because playing with electricity meant there was a good chance of being shocked, but the thrill of the chase moved in mysterious ways. And sometimes, Renjun liked to break the rules.

It became a regular thing; an outlet for frustration. Now that they had officially crossed the line, they weren't so keen to stop. Finally sick of the sexual tension, Mark swapped rooms with Renjun and reaching new highs in their relationship? friendship? was easier when they could shelter it inside their own four walls. 

The others knew, of course they knew, because Renjun and Donghyuck stopped trying so hard to be subtle about it after the first few times. Like hiding in plain sight. 

  
  
  


"Can we talk?" Jeno nudged Renjun's knee with his hand as he sat with paper drafts of the album cover in a circle all around him. He was on his bed; the others were in the living areas or outside, working on things of their own. 

Renjun stopped colouring something for a second to glance at Jeno's expression, though continued as he perched on the mattress next to him, facing the paper. "Sure, what's up?"

"About you and Donghyuck."

Renjun's hand stilled and he gripped the pencil harder, refusing to lift his head. He knew eventually this conversation would come.

"What about us?"

Jeno was silent for a moment. Renjun felt like he was being stared down and lowered his head even more.

"We all know what you're doing," he spoke softly, evenly. "With him."

Lifting his eyes just enough to look at Jeno through his eyelashes, Renjun shrugged. "Does it bother you?"

Jeno immediately shook his head. "No! No, not like _that._ We're okay with it. With you and him. We just," he paused for a moment and shrugged too. "We want you to be careful."

Renjun dropped the pencil completely and fiddled with his hands as he stared at the drafts of album art. 

"It's just physical, Jeno," he said. "It doesn't mean anything."

When Jeno didn't respond, Renjun lifted his head properly. His expression was unreadable.

"I don't believe you," he said. 

"Why? We've kissed a few times. Fucked once or twice. Purely physical." 

Jeno shook his head. "Not to you, it isn't." 

Whatever comeback Renjun had mentally prepared on the tip of his tongue died right there, and he inhaled softly. His silence was a confirmation, and he knew Jeno knew it.

"So?" Renjun's voice very rarely cracked, but it did this time. 

"So," Jeno said, reaching forward to pat his arm softly. This was Renjun's favourite thing about Jeno. He was completely unbiased, non-judgemental and the best kind of friend. "Do what you want. Both of you. Just be careful. We don't want you getting hurt. Donghyuck might not be able to see that you like him but we can." 

Renjun sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Do you think we should stop?"

And that's the thing about Jeno. He was so _un_ like Donghyuck that Renjun trusted him immensely, more than any other member in this band. Enough to bare his heart out like this. Be vulnerable.

"I don't know," Jeno said. "But I think you should talk to him and find out what you both want out of it." A pause. "If it _is_ just sex for him, would you still do it?" 

Renjun shrugged and pushed the papers to the floor so they scattered at Jeno's feet. "Maybe. I'm pretty good at hiding my feelings."

At this Jeno began to laugh and laid back so his head rested on the mattress too. "Maybe to him, but even Mark knows. And Mark hasn't even been here that long." 

Renjun shoved Jeno so hard he rolled off the side of the bed and landed on his ass on the wood floor, but still he laughed, eyes disappearing into little crescent moons. 

He didn't thank him for it, but Jeno's advice was well-timed. That night, when he and Donghyuck laid next to each other, naked and wrapped with silk sheets and the ceiling fan squeaking in place above them, he rolled over and stared at Donghyuck's face as he attempted sleep, moonlight streaming in through the open curtains. Donghyuck’s position, facing Renjun, showed off the constellation of moles on his cheeks and neck. It was their third or fourth time like this, and the third or fourth time that Renjun had pressed open-mouthed kisses to each and every one, making Donghyuck squirm below him.

"You're staring," Donghyuck's voice came groggy and rough from being silent too long, or perhaps previous events of the night. It cut through the darkness like a knife, breaking through Renjun's reverie.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," and with that Donghyuck's lips stretched into an amused smile and he peeked one eye open, the one not currently pressed into the pillow. Renjun reached over and pushed his shoulder which made Donghyuck laugh and roll onto his back.

"What is it?" he said again, more serious.

Renjun fingered the silk sheets that pooled around his hips and briefly glanced at the shapes of the silk on Donghyuck's body too: barely covering his chest but shielding further nudity. His honey skin made darker by the time.

"What… is this? Like, us?" 

Donghyuck was silent for a while; Renjun waited patiently, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"What do you want us to be?" 

Renjun shrugged. The action made a sound against the mattress. "I don't know." 

The words were the heaviest thing he ever said, and out in the open they still weren't free. The squeaking ceiling fan did nothing but add background noise.

"Me neither," Donghyuck eventually said. It did little to ease the nerves. "But we can figure it out. Don't think too much about it." 

It didn't help, not really. Whatever this thing he had with Donghyuck, it felt like a rollercoaster. Affection laced with affliction. They still argued over stupid things during the day then made up with heated kisses and tender touches at night, like their disagreements never happened. Rinse and repeat. 

But he let Donghyuck kiss at his neck, mouth a "don't worry about it" against his ear, snake his hand down over his hips and under the covers. A distraction. Like the killer queen he was.

  
  
  


They wrapped up two months in the cabin in late August when the season started to change. The heat was still strong and sticky, but it came with the added bonus of high humidity making everything ten times worse. But ten songs later, they had an album. It was experimental, a lot of their songs different to the demos they had online, but an exploration. A sound. Their sound.

They spent a few weeks recording the songs they wrote and finally, at the end of almost three months of work, the four of them held the first copy of their album, one hand in each corner, while Mark took the photo from above and uploaded it to their MySpace page. _Cat Killed the Curiosity_ , they named it, after a single of the same title three songs in. The album artwork was mostly Renjun's creation: a cartoon cat looking up into an inky night sky, ablaze with balls of fire and a spaceship with a single beam. 

It felt a little surreal holding it; the result of an entire summer of work, and not just the pretty parts of it either. This album held all the struggles they encountered since they were formed, and all the memories too. Fans wouldn't know that, when designing the artwork, Renjun and Donghyuck argued over the concept to the point where Donghyuck destroyed all the papers because he was in a bad mood. They wouldn't know that Renjun broke his guitar strings in retaliation. They wouldn't know that they spoke words of adoration alone together after the events that day, and made up with kisses in hidden places. 

The album was like a part of all four of them. Each of them wrote lyrics, melodies and beats that featured on it and all had a final say in the design. And now it could be held, and hopefully liked by the people who did so.

Mark did an excellent job of getting them bigger gigs, their own headlining shows in local venues, with each crowd growing in size every time. The cheers got louder, too, and Renjun would be lying if he said that the adrenaline rush from performing didn’t make him feel lighter than air, like he could do anything. And it was only made better having three other people to share the opportunity with.

They had steady shows, an income, fans. It was all they wanted. But the best news came on a rainy October evening, when Mark called the four of them to his "office" (a tiny room in his house that was barely big enough for Mark on his own, let alone five boys squished shoulder to shoulder. Instead, they sat spaced apart in Mark's lounge).

"So," he started. "Good news. I got you a spot on a tour. You're going to open for Criminal Manners when they tour in January."

Four gasps sounded and Mark gave a warm smile. "It's for one month on their Europe stint. The venue sizes are pretty big, much bigger than what you play here but–" 

"Europe?" Donghyuck's voice was quiet but in the small room it stopped Mark's sentence. The silence that followed was timid and tranquil, the kind of silence in the countryside. Peaceful. Calm.

"Yeah, Europe. The first stop is in Oslo at the end of January. You'll finish in London at the end of February." 

If his younger self could see him now, Renjun would have assumed his future was rigged. There's no way that him and his three nerdy friends would be embarking on a Europe tour together, fresh out of the press with a debut album. When Renjun thought of this band, he felt hope and solidarity, familiarity and comfort. Junior Renjun felt the same back then too.

They spent the next few hours talking (with a little bit of crying, but in Renjun's defence he had a cold and his sinuses acted against him) about the tour, Europe itself and the future, and walked home past midnight, Jeno and Jaemin together in front while Donghyuck huddled close to Renjun for warmth behind them, hands brushing but neither having the confidence to grasp.

It was funny, the way they did this. Weeks of living on top of each other meant they got to know each other in ways neither of them knew others; Renjun memorised the taste of Donghyuck's kisses and could tell what kind of mood he was in by the touch of his fingers. 

When Donghyuck was in a good mood, he took his time, mapping out skin like it was a personal mission, and those times he made Renjun's heart and lungs burst into flame. When he was angry, he wasted no time – barely removed clothes, let his palms speak what his mouth could not. When he was upset, he was hesitant and chaotic at the same time, not afraid to touch but instead afraid to be touched in return. When he was tired, he didn't touch at all. 

And Renjun wasn't stupid, he wasn't going to assume every kiss or touch was a display of genuine emotion, especially since being friends with benefits was just as much fun for him as it was for Donghyuck – but also there was an undeniable ease to doing this with him, in the way that every other intimate moment in his life (not that he really had much comparison) wasn't even half as comfortable. 

Renjun wasn't a hopeless romantic, either; he knew Donghyuck didn't like him back, at least not in the same way. But that's why they were in this position, side by side with no visible gaps between their bodies, fingertips brushing against knuckles but too scared to slide into the spaces and hold hands. 

This was what they did best, even if Renjun wanted more.

  
  
  


October drifted quickly, as most autumn evenings do. The days blurred and the nights got longer each time until eventually, somewhere around the end of the month, everything seemed to exist under one collective darkness almost all the time. 

On clear nights, Renjun snuck out of his bedroom window and climbed a few steps up the drainpipe to sit on the flat roof above his room, staring at the stars above. He took his sketchbook sometimes, and sat cross-legged with a nearby street lamp providing just enough light to make out the pages and the colour pencil he was using. 

Donghyuck, Jeno and Jaemin slept over occasionally. It made sense since he had the biggest house of them all, thus the biggest bedroom. It was also the most central, an almost equal distance from the three other boys. After living with each other for months it felt nice to have their own space again, their own beds and their own rules even if it was going to be short lived, but the four of them could never quite stay away for long enough, so even when they didn't practice they still spent the days with each other most of the time, and the nights too.

One night in mid-December, as the deadline for the tour drew ever closer, Renjun and Donghyuck climbed the drainpipe with thick coats covering their thin t-shirts, and sat down together on the flat surface, staring up at the stars. Donghyuck lit a cigarette (he gave up on the idea of quitting in the cabin, citing a one track mind and preoccupation as the reason for it) and held it between his two fingers while he leaned back on his elbows, eyes glued to the sky. 

"You know," Donghyuck said after a drag and an exhale of smoke, "I think I was made for this." 

Renjun laid on his back next to him, and at some point in the night had closed his eyes while his hand rested on his tummy. He peeked one eye open to stare at Donghyuck from below. "Made for what?"

Another drag and exhale. A flick of ash on the surface that would blow away with the wind. A flash of orange ember in indigo sky. "This," he said again. "Here."

"You think you were made for smoking on my rooftop past midnight?"

Donghyuck laughed, a blissful sound that shivered and shook through Renjun's insides. "No, I mean here. With you. I think I was made for this."

"Oh," Renjun hummed with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Me too."

Donghyuck said many things he didn't mean, most often during periods of intense emotion. In arguments, he made rude accusations. During heated moments, he spoke confessions of adoration. Neither of them meant anything when his actions declared otherwise. He didn't really hate Renjun. In the same breath he also didn't love him like he claimed he did one night in the cabin. It was just new, something uttered to a room filled only with the sound of panting and soaking hot heat. They were just young. Donghyuck may have said he loved him, the result of other thoughts shrouding his rationality, but those were just words.

The problem with just words, though – empty, endless words – was that they often lingered in empty ears. Desperate to cling onto something, those words embedded themselves into his brain. For weeks, Renjun thought about them. Replayed the moment over and over again in his head. Watched as Donghyuck whispered them to him over and over again every time he closed his eyes. 

Donghyuck was cruel for that. He gave Renjun the one thing he didn't want. Hope. 

But Donghyuck was also skilled. He said the right things at the right time. This wasn't his head talking, but his heart. 

"I'm so happy you're doing this with me, Jun," he said. He breathed in another layer of smoke and exhaled the excess.

After a pause, he spoke again. "I can't imagine this with anyone else. You're my best friend. I love you so much, and I'm really happy things are falling into place."

He'd practiced building glass walls around his heart many times in the last few months, knowing for sure that whatever he had with Donghyuck would test their strength. He felt them crack just a tiny bit, and the glimmer of hope that Donghyuck implanted caused his breath to catch in his throat.

Renjun sat up, took the cigarette from between Donghyuck's fingers, brought the end to his lips and inhaled. And as he blew smoke out between them, he handed it back to him and laid back down, eyes watching the galaxy open up above them.

"Me too," he said. He tried to keep his voice even. "Me too."

  
  
  


Christmas came and went, and the new year too. The four of them took a few weeks off performing at the end of December to unwind and rekindle their flames, and met again in early January in high spirits, counting down to D-Day. Renjun even had half a suitcase packed early in anticipation. By the time the flight to Oslo came around his stomach birthed butterflies, and as he, his band mates and Mark sat in the departure lounge, passport gripped hard enough that his knuckles turned white, his heart drummed against his ribcage, knees twitching with nerves. 

Somewhere over the Atlantic ocean, Donghyuck's head rested on Renjun's shoulder and he closed his eyes, murmuring a complaint of sleepiness close to his ear. On Donghyuck's shoulder, Jaemin had fallen asleep already, head drooped slightly so his blonde hair was almost level with Donghyuck's chest. Jeno sat with Mark behind, and a quick peek through the gaps in the seats showed them deep in sleep too, Mark leaning away with his face against the tiny window.

It had been an early flight and the sharp January frost gave his whole body pins and needles, kept him awake even when he knew jet lag would do the same; Donghyuck's hand rested gently on top of his jittery thigh, long fingers curling around his knee. He squeezed.

"Relax," Donghyuck's voice came soft, meant for only his ears. 

"I hate flying," he admitted, turning his head just enough to rest his chin atop Donghyuck's hair. It had grown long since the summer, almost long enough for a ponytail. Renjun particularly liked hiding his fingers in it.

"You'll be fine," he said, then seemed to correct himself. "We'll be fine. I promise." 

The hand that wasn't resting on Renjun's thigh slid across his waist, aiming for the one that gripped the arm rest. Tender fingers brushed the back of his hand, over the birthmark there, and anchored into place between his own, adding just enough pressure that Renjun felt compelled to release his grip, turn his palm upwards and curl his fingers around Donghyuck's too, like fitting two perfect puzzle pieces together. His touch was vulnerable, delicate, _shy_ , much unlike the callousness of his skin from years of guitar. 

With careful consideration for Jaemin's comfort, Donghyuck pushed him away so he instead leaned against the side of the plane, head buried somewhere in the wood between two separate windows. Then Donghyuck turned in his seat, angled his body towards Renjun properly, knees pressed warm against his side, and rested his head on his shoulder once again. 

Renjun had been the object of many of Donghyuck's cuddles, but it was reckless of him to do it so publicly, so shamelessly. It was their rule, unspoken of course, but Renjun assumed Donghyuck would want to practice discretion, whether this was just to ease his anxieties or not. But still, the fear melted away, replaced instead by tiny glimmers of calm that grew in size until he could unclench his muscles, steady his breathing, close his eyes. 

Donghyuck had fallen asleep. His even breaths fanned over Renjun's cheeks and neck which in any other circumstance would have been irritating and ticklish, but now he found solace in them, enough that he angled his head to fit on top of Donghyuck's, spare hand resting in between their bodies.

He fell asleep like that too, only woken by an announcement hours later that the plane was due to descend. When he lifted his head his neck ached from being still for too long and imprints of Donghyuck's hair had formed on his cheek, but there was something captivating about the rosyness of Donghyuck’s cheeks too, his sparkly eyes, unrivalled pearly smile. 

He kept his hand in Renjun's until they disembarked, then again all the way through to the airport exit. Renjun only noticed when he felt their absence, with Donghyuck's fingers sliding reluctantly from their hold outside, the tourbus – their home for the next month – waiting for them.

  
  
  


If living in a cabin was hard, living on a tourbus was worse. At least in the cabin they could go outside, down to the reservoir, and bask in the unshaded sunlight. They could sleep all day if they wanted. Here, travelling between cities meant sharing a tiny space with bunk beds and windows that didn't open properly, a small shower room, and a tiny section of chairs meant to be a living room. The constant movement and sound of engines was unnerving, unsettling; Renjun was never one for sleeping in vehicles, or with any kind of noise, but pure exhaustion had him curled in his bunk with headphones in his ears and eyes closed, trying anything he could think of to relax enough to catch even just a few hours. 

But that was another problem with tourbuses. In the cabin there was an agreement: if someone was sleeping, everyone else went outside. On many occasions Renjun slept at 5am and woke up some time in the late afternoon alone but well rested. Here, whenever he was able to sleep and actually managed to do so, something would always wake him up. The bus going over a crack in the road. A member being too loud. The TV or music on too high a volume. Or even just general noise, like someone flushing the toilet or washing their hands. 

Renjun had never really been a light sleeper. But it seemed his brain played with any anxieties he had and pulled the strings, kept him awake without reason which only made him grumpy and agitated, and within the first few days Jeno – who rarely got into arguments and had always been the most easy-going of the four of them – called him, in quotes, a pain in the fucking ass. 

Renjun knew he was being irrational. He couldn't expect the other members to stay silent and still just because he developed a bout of insomnia. It wasn't their fault, and each of them had to have some degree of normality otherwise they would _all_ be miserable. Jaemin liked to take care of his skin so he took the longest in the shower room every day, and it became particularly annoying when anyone else desperately needed to use the room. Jeno liked to unwind with music before sleeping, but his headphones were cheap and sound leaked out of them into bunk beds below. Donghyuck sang, whether he was getting dressed or washing his hair or just practicing as they waited for the night time. 

The first show was a miracle. The arena held a maximum capacity of approximately 2000 people, of which all tickets had been sold, and during soundcheck Renjun sat at the drums staring out at the empty seats and standing space, overwhelmed with emotion. This was their biggest crowd to date and within hours it would be filled, and they had half an hour to make the audience their own. 

The other three members were also a mix of feelings each. Jeno couldn't stop pacing; even during soundcheck when the sound guys spoke to him, he answered in stutters and couldn't hold his bass properly. Jaemin rarely showed his nerves, at least not like Jeno did, but Renjun knew him almost as well as he knew Jeno – when Jaemin was anxious he bit his fingernails and chewed his lower lip, and Renjun got a good look at him from the back of the stage at the soundcheck and he too played stiff with top teeth biting into his plump lower lip. Renjun was quiet; he fiddled and touched things but stayed silent and reserved, waiting. 

Donghyuck didn't get nervous. Renjun envied him for that. Donghyuck took the centre stage and sang to the empty room during soundcheck without so much as a quiver. A hiccup. In fact, even without stage lighting and makeup he still glowed. 

Oslo had been snowing since they left the airport and when Donghyuck stepped off the tour bus on the morning of their first show he shivered, dressed only in thin pants and a hoodie. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the brick wall of the venue, a stone's throw from the bus, and Renjun joined him minutes later for fresh air. Snowflakes fell and landed in Donghyuck's untamed hair, now a mix of brown and purple from an impromptu dye job a few days before the flight, and even with his dark clothes and heavy eyes and thick morning voice he looked like an angel, especially as he finished his cigarette and squashed it under his shoe then stood with his arms out, letting the snow kiss his cheeks and cover the rest of him in glitter. 

And yet, hours later, after soundcheck and wardrobe adjustments and stage makeup, Donghyuck walked out to a screaming crowd of thousands, twisted his fingers around the mic stand and the neck of his guitar respectively, and started their first song with nothing but confidence. Now, under red lights that made his eyes dark and skin shiny, he looked like a devil. 

Renjun wasn't used to being scrutinised like the other three, but he hid his face behind his cymbals in case any hawk-eyed fan noticed the flush on his cheeks from afar, or the admiration in his eyes. Something in the way he controlled the audience allured Renjun; he only wished he could be standing at the barricade like the lucky ones already there, bruised not just from being pushed up against the metal barriers but other activities entirely.

When their set ended and they left the stage and the hype of their first ever European show had fizzled to background noise, Renjun managed to get Donghyuck alone backstage. Jeno and Jaemin mentioned something about making friends with the crew before they left, but neither Renjun nor Donghyuck really paid their whereabouts any mind, not when one of them initiated a kiss and the other followed, but neither of them could remember who. It was risky – even more risky than hand holding in public, because if they got caught they definitely couldn't explain it away – but somehow the excitement of chasing lust started a fire in the pit of Renjun’s stomach that couldn't be extinguished; he wanted Donghyuck, behind closed doors or not, and Donghyuck wanted him too. =

Months without kisses and touches did nothing to slow them down; Renjun knew his way around Donghyuck's body almost as well as he knew his own. With ease and familiarity, Renjun slid into Donghyuck's lap and moved forward until their hips collided, drawing a noise from Donghyuck that was drenched in sin. 

And only hours later, attempting sleep inside his tiny bunk barely large enough for one person, Renjun pulled back the curtain when a voice sounded outside, a whisper of his name, and a question: "can I come in?" 

Renjun fully expected something to happen, letting Donghyuck into his bunk. Mischievous, wandering hands under pyjamas or kisses exploring vast expanses of skin left untouched in the hast earlier. Instead Donghyuck curled into Renjun's side, head somewhere between his armpit and chest, the only other touch a secret brush of fingertips as Donghyuck slithered his arms around his torso. 

A muffled "goodnight" slipped past Donghyuck's lips, spoken into Renjun's skin, directly above his heart. He was sure Donghyuck could hear it beating and that may have been the reason for him to lay his head there in the first place, each soft thud a metronome keeping perfect time. From this position, Renjun could feel every inhale of Donghyuck's chest against his side. The heart and the lungs. The drums and the bass. The rhythm instruments, the spine of every song, and Donghyuck's trembling hands conducting a symphony of both.

  
  
  


After Oslo came Stockholm, and after Stockholm came Copenhagen. They had at least one day between each show for travelling, and it was only when the tourbus was in Danish territory that Renjun's insomnia finally subsided, likely aided by Donghyuck's almost constant presence; he hadn't slept a night in his own bunk since before their first show, and it was evident he had no plans of returning. 

Mark, Jaemin and Jeno noticed too. It was hard not to when he emerged in the mornings with sleepy eyes and puffy cheeks and dishevelled hair and pyjamas from a bunk that was not his own, and Renjun rolled out only seconds after him in much the same state. 

It was confusing. They hadn't done anything more than sleep together in four days (though Donghyuck did particularly enjoy kissing Renjun slow and sweet each night, especially after the nights they performed and the taste of adrenaline was still on his tongue; Renjun basked in that, and in the warm weight of Donghyuck's body on top of his own). 

After the show in Copenhagen, their biggest, most responsive crowd so far, the four of them left the stage euphoric and more alive than they ever had, sweaty and out of breath but on top of the world. Copenhagen had snowed, too, but the air didn't sting quite so much. When Donghyuck stood outside smoking, smoke and visible breath lingered and mingled as one, eventually taken away by the wind. 

A pair of teenage fans managed to make their way behind the venue where they stood despite the headline band still being halfway through their set. When asked, the two girls said they had come to see _them_. They also stood clutching their album, which Renjun had only ever seen in his own hands and on display. 

Renjun didn't even have an autograph yet. He hadn't practiced, not while they were so unknown. But he scribbled his name on the back case right above the title of the first song in black Sharpie, Jaemin below the last one, Jeno on the front somewhere below the spaceship and Donghyuck on the front too, on top of the cartoon cat. 

After the fans left, talking with each of them for what seemed like hours, the four clambered onto the bus where Mark was already waiting, shut the doors and began the journey into Germany. It would take the night and some of the morning to reach Cologne, then after tomorrow night's concert they would have a free day to explore Berlin. 

Renjun was the last to take a shower; Mark, Jeno and Jaemin succumbed to exhaustion already, curtains closed around their bunks. Donghyuck was awake, guitar on his lap on the sofas, notebook open in front of him. In the dim light from the TV and nothing else, Donghyuck's eyes looked heavy and tired but he gave Renjun a smile as he passed him on the way to the bathroom. Their hands brushed, calloused skin against calloused skin, and Renjun stopped in his tracks to hold his hand completely, lace the fingers together and squeeze until Donghyuck stood, eyes level with his own, and brought his lips into a chaste kiss. 

There was nothing more than a brush of lips, slightly chapped from the cold European weather, and over within seconds; Renjun almost wished the kiss was deeper so he didn't have to lay awake and wonder what changed. Donghyuck whispered a "goodnight" before he slipped into Renjun's bunk, almost like he was waiting for him. Renjun spent his time in the shower overthinking like always, then dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt and climbed into his own bunk where Donghyuck had already fallen asleep.

He was on his side facing away from the curtain, and when Renjun lifted himself in he looped his arms around Donghyuck's chest, instinctively securing him in his arms. If Donghyuck had been awake he most definitely would've felt the pounding of Renjun's heart pressed heavy against his spine. Maybe he did even in sleep, because he curled the other way so the two hearts beat against each other, his own arms bracketing Renjun's torso. 

"Goodnight," he whispered against Donghyuck’s hair. The strands tickled his nose but they smelled like vanilla from his shampoo, like _home_ because wherever Donghyuck was, Renjun was never far behind. It struck him that it came with ease. Associating Donghyuck with home was past the point of no return, the kind of thought reserved for the silence of a night, something left unsaid at dawn. 

Below them, the engine hummed like a dull ache. Renjun pulled Donghyuck closer under the covers and slept soundly, lulled by Donghyuck's breathing against his ear.

  
  
  


It was in Berlin, after finally developing a decent sleeping pattern, that Renjun began to actually _enjoy_ being on tour not just for the music, but for the travel too. Donghyuck found out there was a market at a place called Mauerpark and practically begged the four of them to come with him, so they navigated the U-Bahn with limited German and found their way there, wallets stuffed with euros they exchanged before the flight.

It was busy. Unbearably so. Although it was cold, confirming the need for thicker coats and scarves, there had been no snow like the other cities, so it seemed that every other winter tourist and Berlin native had also flocked to the flea market, and actually walking around it became a task. 

Jaemin bought himself a new watch from one of the stalls and Renjun was particularly interested in a makeshift gallery, sporting canvases that the owner of the stall had obviously painted themselves. The seller, a boy about his age, tried speaking to him in German but switched to a strange mix of Mandarin and English when he realised Renjun didn't understand, and eventually introduced himself as Yangyang.

Jeno, Jaemin, Donghyuck and Mark had disappeared to other stalls, Donghyuck with his hand circled around Jaemin's wrist when he spotted a stall selling beauty products. 

Yangyang's art stall was the quietest part of the market, actually, and a welcome change. He was also a chatterbox; clearly his stall had been somewhat overlooked by other market-goers and he was quite happy to talk a lot about nothing and everything while Renjun only half-listened, his eyes mostly taking in the art hung on the sides.

Falling on a specific canvas, Renjun stood in front of it and stared. He considered himself a skilled artist, even evidenced by the year of university in which his entire portfolio had to be scrutinised in the admissions process, and the many, _many_ drafts he sketched of their album cover before taking the final design to the label for approval, but Renjun's chosen medium was drawing, and paint was never a strong point for him.

But Renjun also considered himself an excellent onlooker and admirer of art, and he could absolutely appreciate paint even when he wasn't able to use it in the same way. The canvas was a surrealism painting, made up of the same vivid imagery that existed in his nightmares when he was a kid, and Renjun couldn't look away from it. 

"This painting's called A Bad Dream," Yangyang muttered beside him, and conveniently turned over the price tag. "Inspired by a recurring dream I had when I was little."

Renjun smiled despite the horrifying imagery, "I had bad dreams like this too. Never thought to draw them, though."

Yangyang perked his head up. "What do you draw?"

"People, mostly. Sometimes landscapes. Sometimes cartoons." 

Yangyang sent him a toothy smile, dug his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a small card with his name and number on it, pushing it into Renjun's hands. "I'd love to see some. Of your work, I mean. If you want." 

Renjun glanced at the digits, at Yangyang's loopy signature printed on the cards, reading 'fine artist' in small capitals. He briefly wondered how many other people he had charmed into taking home his business cards that day, but didn't spend too long on that thought. 

He pocketed the card for safe keeping. 

Just as he did so, his missing bandmates and manager sidled up to him and began to drag him away, luring him with the promise of food and somewhere to sit. 

"It was nice meeting you," Renjun said when he untangled himself from their grasp, and he only just heard Yangyang's voice over the commotion of the crowd outside his stall. 

"Hey, wait, what's your name?" 

Renjun wasn't really sure what inspired him to do it because strangers asking for his name, even if said stranger spent the last twenty minutes talking his ear off, wasn't really something he agreed to. But he stepped back inside the stall and took an old receipt from his wallet and the pen near the cash register, and wrote his own business card on it: 'huang renjun, fine artist and drummer', with his number underneath. 

Yangyang took it, his smile wider and toothier, and pushed the receipt inside the cash drawer for later. 

Donghyuck's grip on Renjun's arm was tighter than normal as they walked towards one of the nearby cafes. He was also unusually silent, and spent the walk staring straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed. Renjun thought nothing of it, until he got a text from Yangyang later that night while Donghyuck was with him, squished into their– _his_ bunk attempting sleep.

_xxx-xxxx_

_hey it's yangyang_

_the boy from the market_

_hey boy from the market_

_it's renjun_

_the boy in the band_

Donghyuck tried very hard not to look, but it was obvious he read the messages over Renjun's shoulder. After a few seconds of silence he exhaled and turned over, pulling his hand from out of Renjun's hold, and pushed open the curtains. He climbed out of the bunk without a word and stepped over the hallway into his own, drawing the curtain around his own bed with such a level of force that it pulled the other end out of place, and the sound of colliding metal rang throughout the bus. 

In the darkness, the phone light was a little blinding, so Renjun read over the words a few time before he flipped the top back over and pressed it into the mattress, and compensated for the missing warmth by wrapping his arms around himself, bringing his knees as close to his chest as they could go.

Yangyang was nice, a fellow artist, they had things in common. He also had a really pretty smile, and a chance meeting at a market stall didn't have to mean anything. Right? Donghyuck had no right to be jealous, not when he didn't rush to put a label on their relationship, not when everything had been purely physical, and no feelings had ever been exchanged.

 _That's not true_ , a voice sounded in his head, suspiciously identical to Jeno's. _And you know it._

His phone buzzed beneath the covers. Sick with unfounded guilt for reasons he couldn't explain, he ignored the message and tried to sleep.

  
  
  


Donghyuck had already left the bus by the time morning rolled around. Renjun didn't sleep well again, and could feel the long arms of fatigue winding around him, coiling like a snake. Donghyuck's sudden departure had left his bed cold and uncomfortable, smaller even in the confined space, and Renjun spent most of the night staring at the slats that held up the bottom of Jeno's bunk, listening to the music that filtered through his thin mattress out of his headphones. 

Jaemin was the first to notice that Renjun slept alone; he prepared coffee for himself at the small kitchenette in the bus and asked if Renjun and Donghyuck wanted one. Renjun wasn't sure when they became a double act, one not mentioned without the other, and the implication had him chewing on his lower lip. 

"Donghyuck's not here," he replied softly, his voice croaky from lack of use. He cleared his throat. "Probably in the venue already."

Jaemin blinked, halfway through scooping instant coffee from a jar with a teaspoon. "You two didn't sleep together?"

Renjun took a cup, gestured to the jar of coffee and placed it on the side. Jaemin poured a scoop into each one. "No."

He paused with the jar and the lid in separate hands, eyes on Renjun.

"Why not?"

Renjun pushed the button on the kettle to get it to boil and leaned back against the counter, rubbing at his eyes with early exhaustion. "He left."

Jaemin frowned like he wanted to ask something but chose not to, and instead stood with his hands on the counter, teeth pressed into his lower lip in thought.

"Did you fight?" 

The kettle clicked off and Renjun picked it up with a sigh and poured the hot water into each cup, and stirred them in silence. "I don't know, Jaemin, it doesn't matter anyway."

"It does," he said, picking up his cup and holding it securely with both hands. "We have to perform together in eight hours."

Renjun laughed, taking his cup and walking to the sofas at the back of the bus, and footsteps behind him told him Jaemin followed. "It's not like we've never fought before."

"You guys weren't dating back then," he said, and immediately the air became tense. If the still silence told Renjun anything, it was that Jaemin regretted saying anything just as much as Renjun regretted the glimmer of hope that bloomed in his heart. He stopped in his tracks, took a deep breath and turned around.

Jaemin looked at the ground, his ears red from shame. 

"We aren't dating," Renjun spoke finally, certain. "We never were."

Renjun hated the way the words sounded in his throat. Like spoken from a place of spite rather than the genuine admiration he actually felt. He hated the way that his voice betrayed the quiver of sadness he had because there was no other way to say it; dating a bandmate was a terrible idea, one that could put the entire band and their individual careers in jeopardy, and Renjun didn't want to let the three of them – and Mark – down. 

Jaemin looked like he didn't know what to say. And neither did Renjun, so he sat down on one of the sofas and lifted the coffee to his lips, inhaling the scent of it. 

"I know, that was insensitive of me to say," he said quietly, walking towards Renjun and hovering awkwardly in front of him. "I," he hesitated, then actually moved to sit next to Renjun instead of talking down to him, "I think you should talk to him. I can guess why he may have left last night, but you should probably hear it from him instead of me."

"Is this about Yangyang?" 

Jaemin smiled sheepishly. "It could be, maybe, to him." 

"But why? We met at a _market stall_. We talked about art. I gave him my number because he asked, he wanted to see my art too."

Jaemin placed a gentle hand on Renjun's shoulder and patted. "Donghyuck gets jealous, you know that. He wants what he wants and he doesn't like when people try to take that away. Think about how much _we_ fought when we first started because he wanted my parts as well as his own."

Renjun smiled at the memory and let out a laugh, instantly warming on the inside. "Yeah, he only stopped being a pain in the ass when I knocked his ego down a notch."

Jaemin's smile grew wide and toothy. "Donghyuck likes it when people challenge him, I think. He likes fighting fire with fire, but he doesn't like genuine competition and he knows when to back down."

Renjun went back to chewing on his lower lip, the heat on his palms from the coffee almost unbearable. "So you think he sees Yangyang as competition? But for what exactly?"

Jaemin's head leaned right onto his shoulder and rested there, breathing slow. "I think that's a question you should be asking him. I don't know the answer to that." 

Leave it to Jaemin to be completely cryptic, but Renjun did at least attempt to follow his advice. Donghyuck was just unusually elusive and spent most of the morning avoiding Renjun like he was trying to be out of sight out of mind. It was only when Criminal Manners had finished their soundcheck and it was time for their own that he emerged from where he had been hiding.

Without getting a good look at him it was hard to tell, but Renjun swore Donghyuck had dark circles under his eyes and skin much paler than normal, eyeballs bloodshot like he was sick. Maybe he was. But Donghyuck paid Renjun no mind, stumbled onto the stage and stood in centre position with his hand curled around his mic stand. His guitar hung limply at his waist. 

The sound engineer, a guy called Doyoung who the headliner's label hired for the duration of the tour, called out to them. Donghyuck said nothing, and did as he asked.

Renjun shared a stray look with Jaemin, who turned around to tune his guitar and gestured towards Donghyuck in the form of a raised eyebrow and a single-shoulder shrug. But it was clear Donghyuck was in a bad mood and Renjun was a little nervous to get involved in his inner turmoil, and truthfully Renjun was also unprepared for a fight and knew it would affect the rest of the tour if it escalated to that.

So they completed the soundcheck stiffly. Doyoung adjusted their levels with no regard for the contempt on stage in front of him, and they left when it was done in silence. 

  
  
  


The Berlin show was _hot._ The audience grew once again, and the heat that radiated inside the arena felt like summer, only much less comfortable. They were hyped, which was great, but Renjun felt sweat drip down the back of his shirt and stick the fabric to his skin, and felt it gather along his hair line and turn the hairs there wet and wavy. He took time between songs where Donghyuck would talk to the crowd to sip from a water bottle he kept near his bass pedal, and poured the remaining liquid onto his cymbals just before their last song so the droplets would splash against his face and provide much needed relief.

"We are Sunsets in Phoenix, thank you and enjoy the rest of the night!" 

The four of them waved to the crowd as they left the stage, exhausted but high with energy at the same time. It was the first time since yesterday that Renjun had seen Donghyuck with a smile on his face. As he sat backstage while Donghyuck was in the middle of an obviously hilarious conversation with some crew members, Mark sidled up to him and took a seat on the arm of the sofa, looking much more put-together and much less sweat-soaked than Renjun, but he didn't seem to mind. 

Renjun watched Donghyuck throw his head back in laughter, his dark eyes twinkling in the artificial light of the dressing room and teeth poking out from under his red lips; he liked to wear makeup on stage, including lipstick, and it only made Renjun want to climb on his desire. He wore all black like usual, down to the thick biker boots that he liked to wear because they made him taller. His eyebrow piercing, something he got on impulse in the break between December and January, caught the same light as his eyes and glinted like a disco ball. If Donghyuck felt his eyes on him he didn't turn around to question it.

"You know," Mark said suddenly, and Renjun jumped as he had forgotten Mark was there. "Donghyuck was with me for most of the day. He wouldn't tell me what's wrong, but he seemed upset." 

Renjun exhaled and watched as Donghyuck's black leather jacket slipped down one shoulder, revealing untainted skin of his bicep underneath. "Yeah, I know." 

Mark coughed and followed Renjun's gaze. "It's none of my business, of course, but are you okay?"

It was such a simple question, but the first time it had been asked. Bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, Renjun sighed and looked down at his lap, not able to look at Donghyuck's radiating smile any longer, not without his heart betraying how he felt. 

Mark seemed to understand his silence and placed one arm around his shoulders. "You don't have to tell me. I get it." 

"You do?" 

Mark hummed in response. "I resigned from my last job because I had feelings for one of the band members and I couldn't handle it. Or more like I didn't want to."

It wasn't like Renjun _wanted_ to admit it to anyone other than himself, even if they already knew. Even if Mark had spent an entire summer locked away with them and both saw and heard what they got up to, and said nothing during that time. 

"It's irresponsible," Renjun said, voice quiet. Looking up, Donghyuck let out another hearty laugh across the room and both boys turned to stare at him as he did.

"As your manager I have to agree," said Mark, his cheekbones high on his face in a hidden smile. "But as your friend I don't." 

Renjun elbowed him in the ribs. He almost fell off the arm, laughing softly. 

"No, I mean it," he started when he calmed. "Not that you're not great friends to me or anything, but I kinda regret running away. Lucas was the best thing that happened to me back then, but, well, I blew it. So here I am." 

Renjun snorted. "So your advice is to break my contract, leave the group and become a manager to four other boys seeking fame and fortune?" 

He got an elbow to the side in return. "My advice is to not be like me. And besides, you already broke the fundamental rule to not sleep with your band mates." 

"Oh my god, Mark," Renjun groaned, cheeks burning. "I can't just– We can't– Our relationship isn't _like_ that. It's just physical."

Across the room, Donghyuck's eyes briefly caught Renjun's mid sentence. Even amidst the brief argument? avoidance? they had, Donghyuck's eyes softened and for a moment he appeared almost vulnerable. His lips curled into a warmer, more genuine smile, and Renjun could make out the cheek moles through Donghyuck's now patchy stage foundation; he wanted to stride over and kiss each one tenderly, and something in his chest tightened.

"Is it?" Mark asked. He sat back and observed the moment, eyes on both of them. 

Renjun's breath caught in his throat and he stood abruptly. "Sorry Mark, I– see you later."

  
  
  


Hot fingers. That's all Renjun could think about. Donghyuck's fingers, which should be cold from the outside temperature, sneaking their way under his shirt, taunting his skin with the briefest of touches, then down to the belt secured into the front of his jeans. Donghyuck's fingers had done this many times that he didn't even need to look; his lips stayed connected to Renjun's neck and he bit down just enough to elicit a whine, but silenced him with a searing kiss to the lips.

What they were doing was _dangerous_ when anyone could catch them, fan or crew or band alike. Renjun followed Donghyuck out when he went for a cigarette intent on figuring out what the fuck was wrong, but like most private interactions with Donghyuck his hands and mouth acted of their own accord. He didn't think it would ever happen against the outside wall of an arena while the headline band's set vibrated through the brickwork, but neither of them ever had much self control.

Donghyuck's hand was halfway into Renjun's jeans and his tongue somewhere between his teeth when his ringtone sounded from his back pocket and startled them, loud enough that their foreheads clashed together and both groaned in pain. 

Renjun fished his phone from the pocket, angling his hips away from the wall that they accidentally brushed against Donghyuck’s front and he hissed with arousal. 

**yangyang** , the display read. Donghyuck tilted his head down to read it too, then immediately huffed in annoyance and untangled himself from Renjun's hold.

It rang until his voicemail kicked in and, seconds after that, several texts popped up on screen:

**yangyang**

_hey i watched u guys play tonite_

_i searched ur name, i hope that's not weird_

_ur really good (not that i know anything about drums tho lol)_

_are u still here?_

"Are you gonna answer him? Seems like he wants to see you," Donghyuck said, emotion unrecognisable.

"I–," he breathed, reading over the texts again. He still didn't reply to the ones sent yesterday, not after Donghyuck leaving his bed left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"You left, yesterday," Renjun blurted instead, and watched as Donghyuck's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He still breathed heavy from their heated kiss, and something flipped knowing Renjun could do that to him with nothing more than lips and hands.

Donghyuck blinked. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

Renjun kicked off from the wall completely and zipped and belted his pants back up, and Donghyuck watched his fingers with emotionless eyes. "Well, I want to know why."

"What do you mean, why? I just felt like sleeping in my own bed last night, it doesn't matter–"

"Do not hit me with that bullshit, Donghyuck, you know damn well that's not what I'm upset about."

"Then please, enlighten me," he said. From his back pocket he pulled out his cigarette packet and lighter, and lit one cigarette to break the tension. 

"I don't care which bed you slept in, mine or yours or on the fucking floor if you wanted to," Renjun breathed. "What I care about, Donghyuck, is you not telling me why you left so suddenly, avoiding me all day and now pretending you didn't. And instantly being defensive when I point all of this out to you."

Jeno and Jaemin walked out of the venue at the same time, carrying bags with their stage clothes and makeup and their other home comforts; their eyes met Renjun's though they pretended not to hear the argument brewing, and quickly stepped onto the bus out of sight.

With an inhale, Donghyuck brought the tragic cigarette between his lips, then sighed and exhaled a puff of smoke that drifted back into Renjun's face with the wind. 

"And I should remind you," Renjun continued, though Donghyuck couldn't even meet his eyes anymore, instead boring a hole into the ground, "that I met Yangyang _yesterday_. We talked about dreams and art. I didn't invite him here tonight, he bought a ticket himself because he searched my name on the internet. We're semi-famous now, Donghyuck. It's no different to any other fan doing the exact same thing." 

"You don't give your phone number to fans. You don't text fans when we're _together_ in your bed," Donghyuck argued, his words coming out quickly like he couldn't avoid the tumble.

"That's what you're jealous of? Me giving my attention to another boy while still sleeping with you? That you wouldn't be able to touch me anymore if I ever did get close to someone else?"

It was a low blow, and both of them knew it. Donghyuck gave a humourless chuckle, took the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it to the tarmac, stamping out the flame with his shoes. "You think I'm only jealous because we fuck? Really? Great observational skills, Jun. Fuck you."

He shook his head, turned around and headed towards the bus, and only as Donghyuck's back got further away from him did Renjun exhale, and finally call out to him. "What–? Donghyuck–?"

"Goodnight, Renjun," he interrupted, shouting without turning around. "I'll be sleeping in my bed again, but no, you're not welcome." 

Renjun isn't a liar, he's not, but he would never admit it to a single other soul that he cried stepping back on the bus, shutting the curtain around his bed and pressing his face into the pillow. It was probably obvious, given the three other people there (all awake, despite Donghyuck advising he was going to sleep) but they could speculate all they wanted; Renjun would never tell.

From inside his pocket, his phone vibrated again, forgotten in the earlier argument:

**yangyang**

_i guess ur busy! i'm going home now, it was a really good show_

_i hope to see u in berlin again!_

_let me know if u ever come back_

  
  
  


After Berlin came Milan, into Vienna and then Amsterdam. Renjun tried his best to avoid Donghyuck completely and actually kept quite a successful streak, as successful as it could be sharing a tourbus and a stage every single day. Donghyuck commanded the audience like he did always, wrapped each and every one of them around his pinky finger and played their heartstrings like the guitar between his hands. From behind Renjun caught many glances of his face, counting the specks of glitter in his eyes while he tried to pretend he wasn't staring, watching as he captured a tiny universe inside each one. 

Renjun had seen that in him before. Passion. Unfiltered happiness. The audience always did bring out the best in him. Every night of the tour so far Donghyuck had left the stage euphoric, like savouring a moment so it could last forever, though not actually sharing that with him now meant they didn't talk at all. It hurt. Donghyuck had the most beautiful personality both on and off stage when he wasn't in a bad mood, and their argument obviously hadn't affected him in the same way. 

Yangyang's text sat unanswered in his pocket. He didn't have the guts to reply to it, a mix of not knowing what to say and not wanting to think about it. It was mid-February now, the Berlin show was a week into the past, and the tour only had a handful of dates before they flew back home, but Renjun wasn't even sure what would await them when they got there. 

Tour life was _hard_. And getting harder every day. Renjun wanted a long, hot shower and comfortable, uninterrupted sleep. He wanted time away from the band, to breathe in his own space for a while; he had to remind himself that this was his life, this is what he wanted and this is what they earned. It was worth it. Or at least, it would be.

Renjun had gone almost a whole week without speaking to Donghyuck directly, instead only addressing the whole group with a "morning" or "goodnight". Even if his heart lurched thick and heavy in his chest watching Donghyuck laugh along with the crew and headliners, stage makeup smudged but still radiant, with glistening sweat that he wore like a halo on his forehead, heavenly and divine. After he showered, he wrapped a towel around his shoulders while wet hair dripped down the expanse of his cheeks and neck, over the curves of his jaw and all the places Renjun's lips had kissed at least once. 

He missed him. He was right across the room, grinning from ear to ear deep in conversation with Jeno and Mark, completely natural and unrestrained. Carefree and _happy_ , even off stage too. It wasn't fair that only Renjun was miserable. It wasn't fair that Donghyuck had been able to pretend that their fight didn't happen and they weren't talking, and go about his life not thinking or caring about that. Part of Renjun knew that was his fault too, but he didn't even know what he did wrong. He didn't even know what Donghyuck meant. 

_Great observational skills_ , his brain mocked. But what was he even supposed to notice? Was there anything _to_ notice? As an artist he focused on the details, erased and re-drew every miniscule part of his creations until they were perfect, only to realise he'd made one crucial mistake: forgotten a light source, or skewed the proportions. Maybe he just needed to strip back and look at the basics, the circles and crosses used to shape the final drawing, the building blocks.

He thought of their friendship first. Four years had gone so fast. Meeting him in that tiny, shitty garage with terrible acoustics it was a wonder they ever managed to produce decent demos in it. Short, nerdy Donghyuck who shouldn't have ever wormed his way into Renjun's heart like this, not when everything back then was achingly average, but somehow did even anyway. They were best friends, probably the closest within the band second only to Jeno and Jaemin, and that was enough. 

But _this_ started less than a year ago hidden under street lamps and a starry sky, orange glow painting their faces in molten lava. 

It was only a kiss. It should've only been a kiss.

He thought about Jeno's words to him in the cabin many months ago when the days had been longer and the weather warmer: _be careful._ But there was one single irrefutable flaw with Jeno's statement. _He_ had been careful. Perhaps too careful. He wrapped himself so tightly in bubble wrap that making assumptions about Donghyuck's motives came to bite him in the ass.

Donghyuck wasn't just jealous because they had benefits. 

Sighing, Renjun took his phone from his pocket and flipped it open to the last text from Yangyang, five days ago. He hesitated before hovering over the reply button. 

_hey sorry i got busy_

_we're in amsterdam, tomorrow we head to paris_

_it was rly cool that u came to c us!_

_idk if or when we'll come back to europe_

_but it was rly nice meeting u_

He pressed send without a second thought. Across the room Donghyuck was intently listening to something Mark said, and in a second so fleeting he thought he may have imagined it, his eyes flicked to Renjun. Mark didn't notice.

It was too late to talk to him now. The adrenaline was wearing off and the mirth in his eyes from earlier in the night faded to a sparkle instead. They did that when he was sleepy, a kind of playful innocence, or what Renjun liked to call a dizzy hurricane. There would be plenty of time tomorrow.

He checked his phone before he plugged it in his bunk to charge when he got back on the bus. Yangyang hadn't replied. 

  
  
  


In Paris they had the advantage of another day off, their first one since Berlin. They met with a journalist called Johnny in the morning for an interview lasting an hour. Mark disappeared halfway through to take a phone call, the look on his face one of absolute surprise as he stared at his phone. When they were done, Johnny recommending places for them to eat at the end of the interview, Mark came back to them with wide eyes, uncharacteristically shy, and told them he had other plans. 

"Lucas called me," Mark said, addressing all of them though it seemed only Renjun knew who Lucas was. He clarified after receiving three blank stares. "He's kind of my ex? We haven't spoken in months. But, um, he and his band are in Paris too. Tonight. They leave tomorrow. And he asked me to meet. Are you guys gonna be okay? You can call me if there's a problem, you know that right?" 

Donghyuck laughed softly and hit his shoulder. "Dude, we're not kids. I think we can manage. Go have fun, it's fine." 

"Yeah, _you_ be careful though," Jaemin added with a smile of his own.

Mark nodded, made sure they all knew to call him for literally any minor inconvenience (which Renjun knew he wasn't going to do, and he doubted that the other three would do it either) and then he was leaving the venue and half-jogging to the nearest Métro, far too excited for something platonic. 

Renjun still hadn't spoken to Donghyuck, but when he said his good mornings to the whole bus when he woke up Donghyuck did actually say it back, which he hadn't done all week. Progress. It was also clear Jeno and Jaemin were getting annoyed at having to choose sides and both repeatedly hinted at him to suck up his pride and apologise. 

So Renjun fell into a steady walk alongside Donghyuck while the two other boys went on ahead; he made no move to get away, and instead he slowed to match the pace. 

"Hey," Renjun began, almost unheard with the level of traffic around them as they walked. They had no destination, only wherever their feet took them.

"Hey," Donghyuck said.

"Can we talk?" 

Donghyuck pulled one of his little hidden smiles, a signature move made in jest. "We are talking," he answered, but there was a playfulness to his voice that Renjun missed and clung onto. 

He couldn't help but smile too. "Let's find a place to sit down. I think you deserve my full attention, at least." 

They walked for a few more minutes until they found, nestled in a side street with fewer pedestrians, a small cafe. _Le Velours Rouge,_ the sign read, the front decorated with twinkling red, blue and silver lights. Inside, several people sat in clusters but it was by no means crowded; there were enough empty seats to enjoy conversation, but not too many to be overheard. 

Renjun sent a quick text to Jaemin in case they turned back, saying they found a cafe and were finally going to talk. He replied shortly after with "finally!!!! confess to him or i'll do it for u". Renjun flipped his phone back before Donghyuck could read the message, and shoved it back into his pocket with flushed cheeks.

They ordered at the register, manned by a girl called Wendy according to her name tag, and found a table close to the glass window front, giving a view of the quiet cobbled street it sat on. Soft jazz played over speakers in the ceiling and it was only when they sat with coats hung on the back of their chairs that Renjun realised each table had flowers and candles. It would have been an ideal location for a first date, and it made him sad he wouldn't be able to come back to it.

"So," he cleared his throat, fingers itching for something to do to avoid fidgeting. He grabbed the napkin in front of him and fiddled with the corners. "I. I need to apologise." 

Donghyuck avoided his eyes, but nodded while he stared down at the oak table top.

"I did some thinking," he continued. "I shouldn't have made assumptions, firstly. I shouldn't have said what I did, so I'm sorry." 

Donghyuck's eyes did that thing they always do when he's nervous; flicker back and forth, up to face Renjun and back down to his lap. It was rare he got nervous at all. 

He brought one curled thumb to his lips and gently bit the knuckle.

"Truthfully," Renjun inhaled softly. "Truthfully, I didn't intend for you to be jealous. I'm sorry that you were."

Donghyuck's lips finally stretched into their first smile and he took his thumb away from his lips to speak. "You can admit I overreacted too. I already know. Jeno made me recount the whole argument and lectured me on it." 

Seeing Donghyuck smile eased tension in Renjun's body too and he chuckled, finally pushing the napkin away from him so it flew off the table and landed in Donghyuck's lap. "You did, a little bit. But it's my fault too."

Donghyuck brought the napkin back on to the table and played with it himself, the remnants of his smile still lingering around his lips. 

"It confused me. That you were so dismissive of Yangyang even when he's just a stranger to me. And with what you said… I realised maybe I've been misreading your intentions the whole time," Renjun trailed off. Without anything between his hands to fidget with he felt exposed, like ripping off a band-aid instead of peeling it slowly, the skin underneath raw and open. 

The waitress – Wendy – placed their drinks and food in front of them and disappeared as quickly as she came. Donghyuck brought the straw to his lips and bit into it, flattening the plastic with his teeth. 

Renjun hesitated. "I thought we were friends, you know, with benefits. I thought that's what _you_ wanted us to be."

With the straw worried between his teeth, Donghyuck sighed softly, hesitating himself. "It was. I did want that. At the start. The more we did it, though, I just… was too scared to admit that maybe it meant more to me than that." By the end of his speech his words became close to a whisper; luckily in the low volume Renjun leaned in and could hear, clear as day.

They were silent for a moment, both boys taking sips of their drinks and starting on the plates in front of them. 

"So what does it mean to you? What do _I_ mean to you?" 

Donghyuck was clearly surprised by the question. He was midway through biting into a slice of cake and his eyes widened, curious and contemplating like they always did. He swallowed before answering. "I don't know. I want _more_ than just benefits. But. You've always been my closest friend. And even without all the other stuff, you know, that will never change." 

Renjun's insides felt like caramel, warm and sticky, dripping down his veins like melted ice cream. 

"Now it's your turn," Donghyuck said, nudging his hand towards him, the one holding the fork. "What does it mean for you?"

He looked–beautiful. In every sense of the word. With wide, inquisitive eyes and a hint, a tease of a smile once again, the ends of his two front teeth poking out from between his lips, barely parted.

"Um," he said dumbly. Jaemin's text flashed over and over again in his brain. _Confess_. "I like you. In more than just a benefits way."

He obviously hadn't been expecting that answer, but Renjun hadn't been expecting his reaction either. He bit into the straw again, now completely flattened so liquid wouldn't even be able to trickle through, and _blushed_. In four years he had never seen Donghyuck do so because he simply didn't get shy. He entered rooms, hearts and heads, by nature or by force, and he made each one his home anyway. 

"Oh," he said. 

"But if it's weird, we can stop. No questions asked. I won't make you tell me." 

With a shake of his head, he beamed something similar to the ones Renjun admired from afar in the dressing room after shows. This was the kind of grin Donghyuck saved for very special occasions, post-gig and high on life itself.

"I didn't say we should stop," with his words he reached across the table and laid one hand on top of Renjun's jittery ones, tapping his palm against his knuckles. The rings he wore were warm on his skin and smooth. "Just that maybe, it needs a new label. I like you too, if what I said earlier wasn't a big enough give away." 

Renjun grinned too, infectious from having stared at Donghyuck's too long. He turned his palm upwards, grasping Donghyuck's hand and sliding their fingers together, fitting together like two perfect puzzle pieces once again. It felt like déjà vu, holding hands like this; reminiscent of their journey to Europe in the first place. With his hands Donghyuck had pulled stories out of Renjun, some uttered against bed sheets or breathed onto slick skin. Others were drawn upon his skin in ghost-like touches of his own.

"So what's our new label?" 

Donghyuck shrugged, looking the most relaxed he had been in a week. Renjun was sure he looked the same. "I don't think we need to know. Not just yet. Let's not rush, we have all the time in the world."

  
  
  


By mid afternoon in Paris the sky started to darken, the city instead lit up by thousands of lights. They couldn't be in Paris and not see the Eiffel Tower, so they texted Jeno and Jaemin and told them to meet, and Donghyuck and Renjun took the Métro. They stood somewhere on the long path in front of the tower occupied by tourists and street sellers, fingers hovering close and barely touching, but the gentle brush of skin brought chills to Renjun's insides. It may have been the February temperature too, but Donghyuck himself resonated warmth and sunlight.

The other boys found them eventually and they took photos of each other with the tower high above their heads, then as it started to rain they sought shelter under deserted scaffolding until it subsided enough to venture back out. 

Later that night after they clambered back onto the bus, boxes of Chinese food spread over the living room coffee table, Mark came back and joined them, and it didn't take much bribery for him to talk about what happened with Lucas.

"We just hung out, we went to a bar and talked. A lot. And we fixed things, for now anyway. We agreed to see each other more when we're both home in a couple of weeks," he said, dipping a battered shrimp into sauce and then biting it. 

Jeno nibbled shredded beef held between chopsticks and smiled at him, "that's great!"

"You're not gonna leave us, are you?" Renjun teased, noodles held up close to his lips. "This isn't you breaking your contract?" 

The other three didn't understand the joke. Mark smiled anyway and shook his head. "Nah, you can't get rid of me that easily."

  
  
  


The Paris show was a success. Renjun felt the most elated he had been since the tour began, and they ended their final song to the loudest cheers they’d ever heard. The four left the stage with grins reaching up to their ears; Renjun threw his sticks to the audience as he walked off, and watched Jaemin and Donghyuck throw their picks too. One day they would be headliners themselves. One day people would be here to see _them_. It filled him with hope, and he couldn't wait till they could go home and promote their album on tour there too.

Johnny's article was in a French magazine by the next day, though somehow Mark sourced an English copy of it so they could read. It wasn't very long, but Johnny waxed lyrical about their exceptional songwriting skills and chemistry both on and off stage; Renjun snorted at that, and it made the others smile. At the end he gave their album – and their show – 8.5 stars, and only remarked that he wished it was longer. 

They had one more day off before London's show, though most of it was spent travelling through France and over the Channel. When the ferry docked in Dover and the bus drove out onto English soil, they stopped to refuel and Donghyuck sat on the steps, cigarette in hand. 

Renjun nudged his back with his knees and Donghyuck created space to sit next to him, offering the cigarette which Renjun took with a hum, inhaling once and then passing back to him. "I can't believe we fly home soon," he said, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. Donghyuck huffed in response. 

"It's gonna feel weird as fuck sleeping in an actual bed instead of those bunks," he said, blowing smoke out between his lips, chapped from the cold. "And not hearing Mark's snoring. Kinda glad about that one though." 

He laughed. "And no more of Jeno's shitty music, I can't stand hearing it through the mattress."

Inside the bus, Jeno made a noise of protest, obviously hearing what he said. Renjun smiled. Donghyuck chuckled and inhaled another drag of his cigarette, then scooted closer and rested his head on Renjun's shoulder. "But I'm excited to take a break for a while. Eat my mom's food again. It feels like ages since I saw her." 

Renjun tilted his head, doing the same thing with his cheek pressed against Donghyuck's hair. "Yeah. Me too."

"And another thing," Donghyuck said, blowing out his smoke. "I can't wait to watch the stars with you again. On your rooftop. Just us two." 

His confession made Renjun's heart jolt in his chest, rattling against his ribcage and sending tingles through every nerve in his body. It was a promise– of something more. Of something better. 

Renjun did something he didn't expect to do: he lifted their heads, tilted Donghyuck's face towards him and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to unsuspecting lips. Donghyuck smiled against them. 

They shared a lot of kisses, in many different places and in very different contexts. But never had one been as soft as this; Renjun's pinky curled around Donghyuck's, hooking into place. An unspoken vow. Donghyuck's lips tasted like a mix of smoke and his strawberry lip balm. It shouldn't have worked but it did. They tasted like _him_. And that was enough. 

It lasted no longer than two seconds. Nothing more than two pairs of lips touching, fleeting, silent before breaking apart. But it warmed Renjun from the inside like a sunrise on a summer morning, spreading to every limb from the centre. 

They closed the doors after that, cigarette end disposed onto the pavement, and the bus continued forward.

  
  
  


Knowing London was their last show felt a little strange. Bittersweet. Grateful for the upcoming break, but sad that it was ending. Renjun knew he would hold this tour in his memories forever as just one hurdle in a lifetime of many. The four of them even exchanged contacts with the members of Criminal Manners. Renjun would probably wake up in two days and wonder whether the whole thing was real or whether he dreamt it.

The crowd was welcoming. The venue wasn't as big as others they’d performed at, but what it lacked in size, the audience made up for in enthusiasm. They were _loud_. And Renjun could've sworn he even saw some fans singing along, which was just another surreal part of this. 

It was the perfect end. They signed some albums and shirts for straggler fans backstage after they left, took photos with them, and it was over. Within hours they were at the airport, suitcases packed, ready to go home. 

The pre-flight jitters crept in at some point, though less nervous this time. More like anticipation, something to look forward to rather than dread. He sat next to Donghyuck again on the plane, fingers immediately weaving into his own and squeezing as the plane caught speed and lifted into the air. Palm to palm. Safe and sound. 

Renjun had no idea what the future would entail, with the band or with Donghyuck. But that was okay. It was the perfect beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/inj4nie?s=09).


End file.
